K is for Kidnapped
by whumpertrooper
Summary: Charlie had a growing tendency to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Unfortunately, this night was no different. A to Z Charlie Whump challenge.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** This fic is based on the prompt by the wonderful 99point9percentwhump over at tumblr. I hope I did it at least half justice :D My apologies in advance if I didn't get some technical details right. I did try :) Fic is finished, will be posted in seven chapters. I hope you enjoy:)_

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**Chapter 1**

This was the third time this month that old Miss Jackson had called them out in the middle of the night. Her husband had died two months prior and ever since then the frail lady startled at every creak and sound in the house. Charlie couldn't really fault her. The large house used to be a farm almost a decade ago. It was on the outskirts of Ballarat and the closest neighbour was maybe five kilometres away. Alone at night it looked kind of scary even to him. So he smiled politely, checked the house from top to bottom twice, drank the cup of coffee Miss Jackson offered in lieu of keeping his company there for a bit longer, then he excused himself and left. He made a sweep around the house with his torch just to be safe and encountered a possum trying to sneak into the garbage bin.

The little thing looked cute at first but when Charlie tried shooing it away, it hissed and snarled and all the cuteness was gone. Charlie cursed, looked around and grabbed a large stick. Once he waved it close enough and made some noise the possum decided to retreat. Charlie returned to the house to let Miss Jackson know what was the possible cause of her disturbance, then left.

He looked at his watch and grimaced. It was barely midnight. Still good six hours before his shift ended and he was already wishing for his bed. Or well... something more interesting than a possum. With a sigh he turned on the engine and headed back towards the town and the police station. Next time Miss Jackson called he would send in one of the junior constables that was manning the station for the night with him. Tonight it was Ned at least and Charlie actually looked forward to reaching the station. Ned was definitely more fun during night shifts than for example Bill Hobart. Charlie cringed at the memory of their last shift together. The man decidedly hated spending his nights at the station and made it clear to everyone. But Ned was different. Not having any of the other supervisors around made the kid more relaxed and Charlie understood that. It wasn't such a bad feeling not having anyone breathing down your neck. Of course, it depended on what kind of a night they had. If there was a brawl, Charlie definitely preferred to have the help of more officers. It tended to end up better for everyone involved after all.

"What the-" Charlie squinted. Further down the road there was a light. Charlie slowed down his car. It wasn't a car light, he saw that much. And while it was moving it wasn't speeding towards him either. It looked as if someone was flashing a torch. As he got closer, the light flashed right on his face and paused. Charlie cursed, trying to shield his eyes and moving the car to the side of the road. The light turned away.

Charlie blinked away the spots then squinted ahead. The lights from his car shone ahead and exposed another car parked on the side of the road. Charlie frowned. Next to the car stood a woman. Charlie couldn't really see her face but she was at least holding her torch aimed towards the ground. Charlie could see the hood of the car was popped up and there was smoke raising. He sighed.

With little hesitation he got out of his own car, grabbing for his torch on the way. He walked up towards the woman, who seemed to be rooted to the spot. She looked a bit scared but Charlie didn't think much of it. Getting stuck on a road in the middle of the night wasn't exactly the safest thing for a lonely woman, even in such a town as Ballarat.

"Hello, Madam. Do you need some help?" he started, stopping at a safe distance from her, making sure she could see his uniform and that he was no threat. A soft sigh escaped her, then she nodded.

"Y-yes, officer. I... I'm so glad you're here!" she said, her voice trembling. Charlie turned on his torch and shone it at her shortly.

"Are you alright?" he asked, inspecting her for any possible injuries. Something in her voice just unsettled him. He wasn't sure what though. The light from the torch showed that she had on a pair of dark pants and a dark jacket. It wasn't the most common attire for a woman, though it blended in well with the darkness of the night.

"I'm fine, thank you, officer," the woman answered his question with some delay. It was as if she was torn between being happy that someone found her and being wary of Charlie's presence.

„What happened?" he asked and took a few steps closer, flashing his torch at the car and looking for damage. The car's bumper looked a bit bent, but otherwise the only sign of trouble was the smoke coming from the engine. Charlie grimaced. He wasn't exactly an expert on cars but even he knew smoke wasn't a good sign.

"I don't know," the woman spoke up and stood with her back against the car, pointing at the hood with some embarrassment.

"I was just heading home from a trip when the car gave some... strange sounds and the smoke appeared. I managed to pull over but don't know what to do now."

"I can take a look at it if you want, though I'm pretty sure you'll need it towed to the shop," Charlie said even as he was standing in front of the open hood, looking inside.

The woman sighed.

"Can't you do something about it, officer?"

"Davis. Sergeant Davis," Charlie said, frowning at the mess under the hood. "I'm sorry. I must admit car repair isn't my strong suit," he said with a sheepish smile of his own and stepped away from the hood.

"Look, it is late, I don't think you'll find a shop open anyway. Why don't I take you back to the town or drive you home? Do you live nearby?"

"Actually, I'm not from Ballarat-" the woman started, her tone clearly saying going back to the town was the last thing she wanted to do. Before she could say that though, the radio in Charlie's car crackled to life. Charlie frowned and raised a hand.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that. Just a moment," he said and walked back towards his car, wondering what was going on. Ned wasn't one to use the radio out of boredom.

"Sergeant? Are you there?" Charlie grabbed the radio.

"Yeah Ned. What's going on? Over."

"I just got a call about an armed robbery. Jewellery store down at Sutton street. Two masked suspects, fled the scene in a blue Ford. There were injured at the scene. Over."

Charlie froze. Ned's voice was clear over the radio, and there was no way it wouldn't be heard in the silence of the night. Charlie's right hand was still clutching the radio, while his left held the torch. He didn't need to turn his head to know the car standing on the road was a blue Ford.

'Bloody hell!' he thought, just as he saw movement to his left. Charlie reacted on instinct. He stepped to the right and twisted around, ready to face off the threat. He managed to turn and caught sight of the woman, reaching into her purse. Before he could do anything else though, a cold nuzzle of a gun was pressed against the back of his neck and a rough hand squeezed his shoulder in bruising grip.

"Don't move," came a hiss and in the next moment Charlie was slammed hard against the door of his car. The torch fell from his grip along with the radio. Charlie grunted but didn't dare to fight back. Not with the gun making a dent in his skin.

"Sergeant?" the radio crackled.

"Damn it! What will we do now?" the man asked, even as he was pressing Charlie harder against the car. Charlie could hear the fear in his voice, which confused him. The man was so much bigger than him, had a gun and had him pinned down... yet he was _scared?_

Charlie didn't get a chance to ponder it though. The woman had walked up to him. Gone was the innocent look. Instead, she looked a bit put out by the whole situation, almost bored.

"Stop panicking, Trevor," she said with a sigh and waved with her hand, indicating that Charlie was in the way. Trevor pulled him roughly to the side, twisting Charlie's left arm up behind his back painfully. Charlie went with the move, hoping not to get his arm dislocated or broken. The woman reached inside the car and took hold of the radio, eyeing it thoughtfully.

"Sergeant Davis? Can you hear me? Serg, I need instructions, over."

"Hm. We seem to be in a bit of a pickle here," the woman spoke as she eyed Charlie. "What to do with you, Sergeant _Davis_?"

"Let me go!" Charlie hissed, but all he got in response was a tug at his arm and an amused look.

"I'm afraid that isn't really an option. But... I suppose I should be thankful you stopped by after all, so here are your options."

Charlie knew right away he wouldn't like those. He cursed the fact he didn't stay at Miss Jackson's place just a bit longer. Maybe then he would've heard Ned's warning before stopping his car. But it was too late now and the woman was giving him such a look that Charlie knew his chances of getting out of this were slim.

"One... we kill you and take your car. Don't know how far we will get, but... I suppose no one will try to stop us for a while."

Charlie gritted his teeth, his breathing coming out harshly but he didn't say a word.

"Ah, I see you don't like option one. Well... number two seems a bit more... fun."

"Mandy? What-" Trevor spoke but shut up when he saw the look of anger crossing her face.

"You idiot, what did I tell you about calling me that?"

Trevor let out a sigh and seemed to almost... deflate. Charlie wanted to use that moment, to throw back his head and slam it against Trevor's face, to punch the gun from his hand and try to get a handle over the situation, but... he didn't. Because he saw the glint of metal peaking from the woman's purse, which was also conveniently hiding her right hand. She only raised an eyebrow in challenge.

Charlie deflated.

He could hardly fight off two guns pointed his way at the same time, not without being killed or gravely injured in the process.

"What's... option two?" he grunted out, feeling disgusted by himself as well as the whole situation. Why did shitty things keep happening to him?

"You answer the radio and tell your friend whatever you need to... to get him off our backs. And make no mistake, sergeant Davis. I have nothing to lose. If you so much as stutter... Trevor here will shoot your brains out and we will still get the car. Do you understand?"

Charlie swallowed.

He wasn't sure if Trevor was capable of killing him... he could feel the man behind him shaking slightly at the mention of the brains, but... he was pretty sure the woman in front of him would have no claims of doing it herself. He saw the glint in her eyes and now that she wasn't pretending to be an innocent bystander, he could also hear the coldness in her voice.

"Okay. I'll... I'll do it."

She smiled like a proud momma, and with her free hand grabbed his chin, squeezing it painfully.

"That's a good boy," she said, tapped his left cheek and let go. Then she held out the radio.

"I... I need to hold it," Charlie said, indicating that both his arms were currently being somehow held up. She sighed.

"Trev... let one of his arms go," she said, sounding put out. Charlie felt the man relax his grip enough for Charlie to free his right arm from between his own body and the car where it was trapped. He felt pins and needles run down his fingers and he flexed them before taking hold of the radio. Ned on the other hand was sounding increasingly frantic.

With a pointed look from 'Mandy', Charlie cleared his throat and responded.

"I'm here."

"Sergeant? What happened? I couldn't get hold of you-" Ned babbled and Charlie had to fight the urge to just spill everything. To shout at Ned to call Lawson, call everyone and tell them to block all the exits out of town. To shout at Ned and tell him to get help, because Charlie was obviously screwed. Instead he took in a breath and closed his eyes for a second, before coming to a decision.

"Sorry Ned, I couldn't hear you for a moment. Can you repeat the situation?"

Ned sounded at the same time relieved and excited.

"Two suspects fled the scene. There were shots fired, the owner of the jewellery store had been injured. His wife heard the shots and saw two people getting into a blue Ford and speeding away. Then she found her husband down at the shop, bleeding. Ambulance was called. Who... who should I call next?"

Charlie cringed.

"How long ago was that?" he asked and really hoped Mandy wouldn't decide he was going too far and shoot him on the spot. Right now she was eyeing him coldly, the small gun pulled out of her purse without a need for disguise.

"Twenty minutes maybe, I'm not sure."

"Call the Superintendant, he will inform you about the protocol. I'll... I'll head over to the scene. Over."

That was it. Charlie ended the transmission in hopes that it wouldn't arise suspicion from Mandy and Trevor and that Ned in his eagerness wouldn't give them too much information. Charlie also hoped Ned would notice he called Lawson Superintendant instead of Boss as was usual for him. Or the fact he was too brusque with the kid.

But based on the radio silence and no further inquiries, Charlie had a feeling most of that went over Ned's head. After all, this was his first armed robbery case while he was manning the station alone. The kid was probably all over the place and not paying attention to details.

Still... Charlie didn't get shot during the call, which could be called a success on itself.

"What now?" Trevor grumbled the question behind him and Charlie blinked, hearing the man voice his own thoughts. Indeed... what now?

Both he and Trevor looked at Mandy, who was obviously to brain of the operation. Or the balls. Charlie wasn't really sure.

"We need to get the car off the road. It wouldn't do for the coppers to find it here right away." With that, she jerked her gun to the side in the well known signal of 'get your ass moving'.

Trevor was still holding on to Charlie's arm as he manhandled him towards the Ford and threw him against the back of it. Mandy nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. I'll get behind the wheel. You, _Sergeant_, will push the car and Trevor here will make sure you don't try anything funny, understood?"

Charlie gave a nod then hissed as Trevor released the grip on his left wrist. Charlie slowly moved his hand to the front, rubbing some of the circulation back into it and grimacing at the feel of pulled muscles.

"No funny business," Trevor reminded him with a jab of the gun into Charlie's ribs. Charlie grunted and threw him a glare, but it was thankfully lost in the darkness. He was sure it would've cost him another bruise.

Mandy in the meantime grabbed something out of the backseat of the car and took it to Charlie's police cruiser, depositing it on the back seat. Charlie could see it was an old army backpack, filled up to the brim. Most likely the stolen jewellery. He felt his gut tighten at the sight, but there was nothing to it. Charlie shot a look back at Trevor. Mandy was currently busy with putting the pack into the car. Charlie only needed to disarm Trevor and he might have a chance at running away, getting lost in the night. But Trevor wasn't close enough. And if he wasn't within reach, Charlie could hardly kick the gun out of his hand before he fired it. Which meant that he would better bide his time.

With a sigh, Charlie leaned against the blue Ford. Mandy was walking back towards them, pausing only a second to whisper something into Trevor's ear. Charlie wondered whether it was the order to shoot. But there was no bullet coming. Only Mandy sitting behind the wheel of her car, releasing the hand brake and putting the shift into neutral as she shouted back at him to push.

So Charlie leaned into the car and pushed, while she steered it off the road, towards some overgrowth hiding a ditch. She got out of the car before it rode down and Charlie also stepped back as soon as he felt the vehicle gaining traction.

They stood there for a moment in silence, until Mandy clapped her hands.

"That should do. Let's get this show back on the road, shall we?"

And she smiled.

Charlie couldn't believe his eyes really. That woman was definitely crazy.

Before he could voice his opinion though - and quite luckily he was sure - Trevor once again grabbed him and steered him towards the car.

Mandy nodded at the driver's seat.

"You'll drive," she said to Charlie and watched as Trevor manoeuvred him inside the car, making sure to slam him against the door first, just for good measure. Charlie felt his teeth rattle and cringed, already feeling the bruises.

"Careful, dear. We want him capable of driving after all," Mandy admonished Trevor, though Charlie could hear the amusement in her voice. There was no mistaking the sadistic glint in her eyes.

Once Charlie was seated, Trevor slipped into the seat right behind him. Mandy settled down on the passenger seat and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Ah, I always wanted to ride in one of these," she said with a smirk. "Though I never imagined I will get a chance to do so uncuffed," she giggled and Charlie felt a shiver run down his spine. What the hell did he get himself into this time?

"Now, here are a few ground rules, Sergeant," Mandy spoke, leaning over so close that Charlie could smell her perfume. It was sickly sweet... getting under his skin. Just like that woman. He also couldn't stand the way she pronounced his rank. She seemed to gain some sick satisfaction by calling him Sergeant instead of his name, and he felt all the more unsettled by it. As if his rank and job were just making all of this more exciting for her.

"If you try anything... and I mean _anything,_" she raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk. "You'll end up with more bullet holes than you can count. If you try anything when there are _other_ people around, well... let's just say I'm ready to take down as many innocent souls as possible. So really, it's up to you, _Sergeant."_

Charlie swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"What... what do you want me to do?" he asked, hating how his voice cracked. Hating to show any kind of weakness in front of someone who obviously enjoyed it.

"Ah, nothing too hard. Just... drive. Answer a call or two if that radio of yours calls for it. But right now? I want you to step on the gas and get us the hell out of this shithole you call a town. Before your dear Superintendant decides to put up blockades on all the main roads."

Charlie swallowed. He was actually hoping that Ned had enough presence of the mind to call in some reinforcement already. He hoped that Lawson was already on his way to the station, along with Blake. Most of all he hoped they would notice he was missing before he actually left the borders of the town.

But hopes were just that. They weren't real and Charlie knew that despite his feeling that _hours_ had passed from his talk with Ned, it had been barely few minutes. There was simply not enough time for anyone to miss him or to get things into motion.

Charlie cast a look into the rear-view mirror. He saw Trevor smirking, thinking they had the situation fully under control. Charlie saw Trevor pointing the gun at the back of his seat, right around the area of his chest. Charlie decided it would be prudent to stay still and follow orders for a while. After all, what was there to stop them from shooting him right then and there? Absolutely nothing.

"Where to?" he asked, letting some of the resignation slip into his voice. Maybe he could play meek long enough for the woman to drop her attention. Hopefully.

"Turn around. I want out of here. The smaller roads you take the better for everyone. And no stupid moves, understood?"

Charlie just nodded and turned the car. He was heading back towards Miss Jackson's house, but he had no intention of endangering the old woman. With a sigh and the feeling that this night was only going to get worse, Charlie stepped down on the gas. He should have stayed home.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

Matthew Lawson was hoping for a relaxing night. Jean's dinner sat heavily in his stomach and he cursed the fact he grabbed that second serving of the pie, but he just couldn't help it. Seeing as Lucien was busy wooing Jean at the table, Lawson felt he deserved something sweet in his life too. Usually he could at least focus his attention on Charlie and bugger the boy with something work related, but Charlie had taken the last two night shifts. And Lucien and Jean were just... too much.

So Matthew stuffed his mouth with pie and decided to have an early night with a good book in his room, rather than play the third wheel. He had just finished the third chapter of the not so exciting crime novel, already knowing who was the killer, when the phone rang.

He cast a quick look at the watch. Past midnight.

Lawson waited. There was a good chance it was just a patient of Blake's needing an emergency visit. Or it could've been the station.

The phone kept ringing and Lawson realized that Blake and Jean might be just a bit... busy to answer it. With a sigh, he got out of the bed and limped towards the door, muttering curses under his breath all the way.

He made it into the hallway when the ringing stopped and for a moment he stood there indecisive, when he heard Jean's voice from the diner room.

"Dr. Blake's house," she announced a bit breathlessly and Lawson smirked. At least he wasn't the only one being inconvenienced by the call.

There was momentary silence, then Jean's "Oh dear!"

Lawson's heart dropped.

"I'll go get him. Hold on."

"What is it?" Blake asked and Lawson was tempted to just return to his room.

"Matthew?" Jean called out, her head peeking into the hallway. "It's the station. Something happened and they need you there."

Lawson sighed. There went the relaxing night. His stomach rolled and he wished he had ignored that second slice of pie.

He walked towards Jean who was holding the phone to him with a frown on her face.

"Yes, Davis?" Lawson barked into the phone, but it wasn't Charlie who answered.

"Uh, it's me, Sir," Ned Simmons stuttered and Lawson's own frown deepened. If there was an emergency he was expecting Charlie to be handling it.

"What's the matter, Simmons?"

"There was a robbery and Sergeant Davis is out on a call so I'm here alone and I wasn't sure what was the right protocol-" Ned rattled off nervously.

"Just... slow down!" Lawson said, already feeling a headache coming up. Jean and Blake were watching him curiously and he tried to ignore the dishevelled look of both of them. "Now tell me about the robbery."

So Ned did and Lawson knew his whole night of sleep just went out the window. He shot a look towards Blake who watched him with a questioning gaze. Lawson gave him a nod indicating that he will be needed as well. Jean sighed.

"Okay. Now tell me where the hell is Davis."

"He's on his way to the scene from Miss Jackson's house. He told me to call you. What should I do next Boss?"

Lawson paused. If Charlie knew about the situation he would've expected him to first and foremost head back to the station to take care of things.

"I'm on my way there. Call in Hobart to meet Davis at the scene, then start calling in people from the morning shift. We need to close every road from Ballarat. But first call Melbourne and let them know to be on the lookout. If those scumbags are trying to get lost they would most likely head there first. "

"Yes Boss," Ned said and Lawson put down the phone.

"Armed robbery, Gaston's Jewellery. Old Gaston was shot."

Blake nodded, he already surmised something like that from the conversation.

"Is he still alive?"

"Yes, as far as we know. I'll still need you there though."

"Of course. I'll be ready in a minute."

Lawson also departed to his room feeling at the same time anxious and somehow excited even though he tried to suppress that part of himself. This wasn't some enticing crime novel, this was real. People got hurt in these situations... or worse, killed. Still... there was a very small part of Lawson that looked forward to hunting down the bastards and locking them up.

Five minutes later both Blake and Lawson were heading to the door, their steps filled with adrenaline.

"Don't wait up on us," Blake said to Jean, putting a kiss on her cheek as he walked out the door. Lawson just gave her a grumpy nod.

Lawson caught Blake up on the whole situation during the drive to the station. He would have headed to the scene first, he was actually itching to go there in hopes of catching a scent and following it like a hound dog, but with Simmons being alone at the station he didn't want to risk any delays. There were phone calls he needed to make, people to coordinate. The sooner they could get everyone on board the better the chance of catching those robbers.

By the time Blake pulled the car up to the station Lawson could see two more cops heading inside and another car pulling up. Good, that meant Simmons was doing his job.

"Do you want me to come in with you or head straight to the hospital and see if Gaston is awake?" Blake asked, still behind the wheel.

"Go to the hospital. I don't know how serious are his injuries but if there's a chance he saw his attackers it could help us."

Blake nodded in agreement and drove off.

Lawson walked into the station and took in the small chaos. Simmons was sitting behind his desk, nervous sweat running down his face as he was obviously trying to get in touch with someone over the phone. Two other constables were standing next to his desk, looking somehow grumpy. As soon as they spotted Lawson though they straightened up, ready for orders.

"Simmons, hang up. Report."

Simmons slammed the receiver down, already frustrated.

"Boss! I can't... Captain Richards from Melbourne refused to speak to me as I don't have the rank and-"

Lawson waved his hand and Simmons fell silent.

"Who did you get in touch with and where are we with the road blocks?"

Simmons jumped out of his seat and walked over to the map they had on the wall.

"We have cars here and here. Sergeant Hobart should be at the scene in five minutes. I got hold of three more officers who are on their way here, and I was trying to inform Melbourne, but..." Simmons took in a breath and his shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Boss. They just won't talk to me."

"Of course. Richards is a mean bastard and his folks aren't much better. I'll sort him out. Keep calling in the rest of our guys. Pair them up, I don't want anyone alone in the streets right now. You two," Lawson turned towards the two cops who were waiting expectantly while Ned was already heading back towards his desk and the phone. "Grab your guns then head out to Leigh creek. Check every car that passes, understood?"

"Yes, sir," both men nodded then went their way and Lawson did the same. He settled behind his desk, ignoring the painful twitch his leg gave in protest of being back on the hard chair instead of the soft bed for the night. With a sigh, Lawson picked up the phone.

"Captain Richards. What is this bullshit about you ignoring my coppers?" Lawson barked into the phone and leaned back, wishing he would've thought of grabbing a cup of coffee before he settled down. This will indeed be a long night.

It was almost half an hour later when Lawson finally put down the phone. Sometime during the call with Richards and the station in the nearby city, warning them of the blue Ford, a coffee had magically appeared on his desk. Or maybe it was Simmons, but Lawson didn't really notice. He was taking a sip, grimacing that it had already managed to cool down more than he liked, when he looked around the station. It was strange seeing the lights turned on even though there was a distinct lack of people around. Only Lawson, Simmons and one other constable manning the phones and putting down coloured pins on the map. Everyone else they could get hold of was out in the streets and Lawson was itching to join them. But alas, so far they had no clue where the two robbers went, or even who they were. All they had was the make of their car and a hope that there will be some witnesses.

Unfortunately, it was late at night and while during the day they had hundreds of eyes on the street that could be able to react and call in anything suspicious, nightlife at Ballarat was different.

Lawson tiredly rubbed at his eyes, longing for the bed and the quiet of last evening. He would be even willing to watch Blake and Jean throw those lovey dovey eyes at each other if it meant there wasn't some armed duo roaming the streets of Ballarat. Or maybe fleeing the country, thinking everything worked out for them.

The phone on his desk rang and Lawson put down the coffee, hoping against all that it was good news.

"Boss, it's me." Lawson grunted upon hearing Hobart's voice. "I'm calling from the scene."

"Report."

"It's a cut and clear robbery, but most likely not a job of a local. Someone cut the glass on the back door and started casing the place. It's a right mess here. I'm not sure if they didn't know Gaston lives right above or if they just didn't care, but they must've caused some ruckus."

"Did you talk to anyone there?"

"The neighbour, Mr. Banks. He heard breaking glass, raised voices. He said he wanted to check it out but then a gun went off. Scared him off."

"Did he see anyone?"

"No. He was too afraid to look out the window. But he swore up and down that one of the voices was female and that it wasn't Gaston's wife."

Lawson raised an eyebrow at that.

"A woman?" he didn't expect that, especially not in such a violent crime.

"He swore on his late wife's grave," Bill said and by the tone of his voice Lawson could imagine the sour look on his face.

"What's the situation now?"

"Greg and I had secured the place, the technician had just arrived to take fingerprints and photograph the scene. I'll leave Greg here and go talk to the neighbours and possible witnesses, but I could do with at least one more person to help out," Bill said not even trying to hide his annoyance.

Lawson frowned.

"I can't spare anyone else right now. Everyone available is scouting the town looking for the car. I thought Davis and Greg should be enough help."

"Davis?" This time it was Hobart who sounded confused. "I haven't seen him. I thought he was back at the station."

The feeling of the food sitting hard in his stomach returned and Lawson felt his teeth clench in the familiar reaction.

"Charlie was supposed to be the first one on the scene. You are telling me he hasn't arrived yet?"

"Not a sign of him, boss," Hobart said and it was clear he was as surprised as Lawson.

"Never mind. I'll try to reach him on the radio. Leave Greg to guard the scene and go talk to witnesses. I'll try to send someone here as soon as possible. And Bill?"

"Yes Boss?"

"If you see Charlie, tell him to call me back asap."

"Understood," Hobart said and there was a smirk in his tone. If Davis was alright, just forgot himself somewhere, Hobart would be quite happy to get him in trouble.

Lawson ended the call and looked towards Ned, ready to ask about where exactly was Charlie when he last spoke to him, when Blake walked in.

The look on his face made clear what happened. Lawson still had to ask.

"Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

Blake shook his head as he sat down on the chair opposite Lawson's desk.

"He was dead before the ambulance even arrived to the hospital. It was a nasty shot to the abdomen... must've hit an artery. He bled out."

Lawson cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off a headache.

"What about his wife?"

Blake sighed.

"Fortunately she wasn't hurt, except for some minor cuts from the glass on the floor. She was able to tell me that she heard a woman and a man arguing after the shot rang out, but that's all. She was too distraught to remember if she heard their voices before or if she saw any strangers in the store in the previous days."

Lawson nodded, expecting as much. Gaston's wife also wasn't a young lady so this must've come as quite a shock.

"Will she be able to speak with us by morning?" he was hoping the case would be somehow closed by then, but didn't count on it.

Blake shrugged.

"She had to be sedated at the hospital. Dr. Grayson had put her in a room, knowing she probably shouldn't go back to the crime scene. But I'm not sure a bit of sleep would help that much."

Lawson nodded then leaned forward in the chair.

"Bill also reported from the scene. One of the neighbours heard a woman's voice, so it seems legit."

"Don't tell me we have our own Bonnie and Clyde here," Blake said with a grimace.

"Let's hope not. Because we also seem to be missing one cop."

Blake frowned, even as Lawson pushed back his chair and headed towards the radio.

"What are you talking about?"

"Davis hasn't arrived at the scene yet."

Blake stood, following Lawson with a look of surprise that quickly changed into concern. Lawson waved him off as he picked up the radio.

"Sergeant Davis, report in."

There was silence.

Lawson waited five more seconds, glancing towards Blake. The man was watching the radio, as if trying to hypnotize it.

"Sergeant Davis, report in!" Five more seconds of silence and Lawson was ready to ask for the third and last time, when there was the familiar crackle of the radio.

"Davis here."

Both Lawson and Blake felt relief wash over them upon hearing the voice. It lasted only a second though, before Lawson was overcome with another emotion.

"Where the hell are you, Davis?"

"Sorry Chief..." there was some hesitation and the gnawing worry was back. Lawson frowned and he could see Blake's eyes narrowing as well. "I got a flat tire, took me a while to change it."

Lawson and Blake exchanged glances.

"You could've called it in. We need you at the scene."

"Yes, Chief. I'm on my way."

Once again the answer sounded off. Not exactly wrong, but... not right either and Lawson was becoming increasingly suspicious. But he also realised that if his suspicion was right, he had to proceed carefully.

"Where are you now? I can send another car to help you out."

A bit longer pause than there should have been, then Charlie's voice was back, albeit sounding a little chocked.

"No need, Chief. I'm already on my way."

"Everything alright?"

"Yes, Chief."

Lawson gritted his teeth. He saw the growing concern in Blake's eyes.

"Good. Then get your ass to the scene as soon as possible. And call me if there is another delay."

"Yes, Chief. Over and out."

With that Charlie ended the call, leaving Lawson and Blake standing by the radio, momentarily frozen.

"What the hell?"

That was Blake.

"Something's wrong."

"Bloody right it is. Charlie had never called me Chief in his life."

Blake nodded and ran a hand over his hair.

"What... that didn't sound like him, Matthew. He wasn't alone."

"No, he wasn't," Lawson agreed. If Charlie had been alone, he would've talked differently. "And he didn't answer my question."

"So we don't have a clue where he is at the moment."

Lawson shook his head and walked towards the map. Charlie's last known location was Miss Jackson. Miss Jackson's house was located on the outskirts of the town... and nearby a crossroad that led to three different cities. None of which was Melbourne. They assumed he was on his way back to the station when he ran into trouble, but truth was... trouble might've been waiting for him at Miss Jackson's house just as well.

Lawson turned towards Simmons who was watching them wide eyed.

"Sir?"

"From now on, we are on radio silence. Get hold of anyone you can via telephone and inform them we are looking for a blue police Ford Zephyr. To report it in but follow with caution and do not apprehend unless necessary. It might have two armed subjects and a hostage. If you will need to get a hold of me, call me on the radio and say I'm requested at the scene. Do you understand, Simmons?"

"Y-yes, sir. Where... where are you going?"

"Miss Jackson's house."

While he spoke, Lawson already headed for the safe with the weapons and took out his gun. He locked up the case, then turned to Blake.

"Are you coming with me?"

Blake was already heading towards the door.

"Try to stop me," he grunted, holding the door open and giving Lawson a challenging look. Lawson just snorted and walked out.

* * *

They were well out of town by the time the radio sounded. It was so quiet in the car that all three had jumped at the sudden noise. Only Charlie had to clutch the wheel tighter however to stop his hands from shaking as he heard Lawson's voice.

"Sergeant Davis, report in!"

Charlie knew by the tone that Lawson was annoyed, but he could also discern the slight worry in the bark. He swallowed and shot a look at Mandy, who was eyeing the radio thoughtfully.

Charlie cleared his throat.

"What... what do you want me to do?"

She didn't answer. Instead she waited. The radio crackled and Lawson called for the second time.

Trevor on the back seat shuffled nervously and Charlie could see in the rear-view mirror that he was casting questioning looks at his partner in crime. Mandy ignored both of them, unconsciously biting at her bottom lip. She seemed to come to a conclusion however and waved the gun in her hand.

Charlie winced at the sudden movement, then blushed, embarrassed by his reaction, especially when he saw her smirk.

"Pull over. And come up with something smart... or the next thing your boss hears will be the sound of the bullet piercing through your skull. Understood?"

Charlie gritted his teeth and nodded, even as he was pulling the car to the side of the road and killing the engine. He looked at the radio then at Mandy, only reaching out when he got a nod of her permission.

'_Come up with something smart.' _

Well, that was easier said than done. Charlie needed to think quick. This might've been his only chance to talk to Lawson and to drop a hint or two about his predicament, but he needed to be sneaky. If something suspicious came out of his mouth, he was pretty sure Mandy would stand behind her word. He had to say something that would warn Lawson, but something that would make it clear he shouldn't be asking questions.

Charlie cursed silently. How he wished they would have some code word in place. If he made it out of this situation alive, he would make sure there was some such word in their future. With his and Blake's propensity to get themselves into trouble he was sure it would find its use.

Right now though he had to make do with something less obvious.

Picking up the radio, Charlie cleared his throat before picking up.

"Davis here."

"Where the hell are you, Davis?" Lawson barked and Charlie grimaced, looking at Mandy. She raised an eyebrow, her gun hand pointing straight at Charlie's head.

"Sorry Chief..." he started, realizing this was it. The only way he could give a signal without it being too obvious. He mulled over the following words for a second, then came up with the easiest answer.

"I got a flat tire, took me a while to change it."

Here. That should be good enough. Mandy was watching him, eyes unblinking. It was rather disconcerting.

"You could've called it in. We need you at the scene." Lawson kept his words curt and Charlie felt a flicker of hope.

"Yes, Chief. I'm on my way," he said, keeping up the charade. He could practically see Lawson raising an eyebrow at the title, but he was grateful the Boss was smart enough not to point it out.

"Where are you now? I can send another car to help you out."

That sounded almost normal. Not suspicious at all... if he hadn't been sitting in a car with two armed robbers. Charlie caught a quick movement on the side and felt the muzzle of the gun pushing just under his jaw line. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly too dry, tongue feeling too big.

"_Careful now,"_ Mandy mouthed with a grin and a challenging look. Charlie closed his eyes.

"No need, Chief. I'm already on my way."

There was a pause, then a question that made a shiver of cold fear run down Charlie's spine.

"Everything alright?"

Lawson showed suspicion. That wasn't good. That could get him killed.

"Yes, Chief." He answered quickly and tried to inject as much certainty to his voice as possible, all the while internally screaming. _'No Boss, nothing's alright! But please, please don't ask!'_

Mandy's eyes narrowed and the gun was pushed deeper into Charlie's skin, eliciting an involuntary hiss. The woman made a gesture with her other hand, signalling for Charlie to finish.

"Good. Then get your ass to the scene as soon as possible. And call me if there is another delay." Luckily, Lawson seemed to catch on, or at least get the hint.

The gun slid just a bit down, resting against Charlie's jugular.

"Yes, Chief. Over and out," he said, hoping he didn't sound as choked as he felt.

There was a momentary silence as the crackle of the radio died down and Charlie slowly returned the receiver to its place.

"Was that some code you used?" Mandy asked coldly and Charlie blinked, then shook his head.

"No."

Before he knew it, the gun slid further down, now resting in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. Mandy reached out with her free hand, grabbing Charlie's face and turning it towards her, then slowly tracing his jaw line with her fingernails. Charlie was frozen in place as he felt the nails scraping against his skin, then digging in, drawing blood.

He hissed with pain and pulled away.

"You wouldn't lie to me now, would you?" she asked, looking him in the eyes. Her hand was suspended in the air and Charlie could see a drop of blood coating her fingertip. _His _blood.

He swallowed and gave a small shake of his head, watching as she finally moved her hand away. Towards her own face.

Charlie watched in disgust as she looked at the bloody finger and with a sick smile popped the finger in her mouth, licking off the blood as if it was just a drop of chocolate.

"Good," she said and Charlie didn't know if she meant his answer or the taste. He really didn't want to know at this point. That woman was legitimately insane.

"Whatever you told him, it wasn't our current location, so I'll let it slide for now. But I think we will be keeping any further radio communication down."

Without any warning, she moved the gun from Charlie and repeatedly slammed the butt of the gun against the radio, her other hand pulling at the cables until they came loose.

Charlie jerked at the raw anger that demolished the radio transmitter, a wisp of smoke and some sparks a clear sign that his only source of communication was gone. The only way to call for help if he ever managed to get to it.

"Bloody hell, warn me next time!" Trevor shouted from the back seat, also taken aback by the sudden noise. "I almost shot the dude right now."

Charlie shuddered.

Mandy didn't deem it necessary to comment. She settled back in her seat as if nothing happened and nodded her head back towards the road.

Charlie started the engine and stepped on the gas.

They drove in silence for five more minutes and Charlie felt his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. Well, if one could ignore the two armed people inside his car, both pointing their guns at him. Both certifiably insane.

Charlie hoped that Lawson put two and two together. At least the man seemed to notice something was wrong. Maybe having the radio destroyed wasn't such a bad thing. At least Mandy and Trevor couldn't listen in on the broadcast. This also meant that Charlie wouldn't know what was going on, but he supposed he could live with that. For the moment at least.

He really wasn't sure what were his chances at a good outcome if they had encountered a road blockade at this point. He would most likely serve as a human shield. That wasn't really the way he wanted to go out.

"Turn right on the next crossroad," Mandy spoke up suddenly, bringing Charlie back to the grim reality of the present.

Charlie frowned. He knew where they were and going right would take them on an old, scarcely used field road leading through farm lands. And nowhere he would think a pair of thieves would want to hide out at this point. But he wasn't about to question a mad woman with a gun. Maybe going off road was a smart choice after all. Less chance of a road blockade... lesser chance of Charlie being used as a shield. For now at least.

The silence in the car continued to be almost obtrusive. Charlie wished he could turn on the radio, he wished for something. But who would try to have a small talk with their kidnappers?

No one in their right mind, Charlie thought grimly.

However, it seemed that the silence and the uneventful ride seemed to bore at least one other person.

Charlie could hear increasing shuffling from the seat behind. So much so that Mandy snapped, looking back.

"Do you need to stop for a piss break or something?"

Trevor stilled, then sighed.

"No, I'm good. Just bored."

Mandy gave him an incredulous look, then rolled her eyes.

"What?" Trevor asked, as if it was an absolutely normal complaint.

Charlie wondered how did these two even get together.

"You're like a child," Mandy grumbled. "Why don't you take Sergeant Davis here as an example? See how calmly he is sitting, how _quiet _he is?"

Trevor snorted.

"Maybe cause we're holding him at gunpoint," he muttered, then something seemed to catch in his mind.

"Davis... Davis. I know that name. Hey!" Like an excited five year old, Trevor leaned forward on his seat, giving Charlie a good look.

"Any chance you are related to Norm Davis? The light heavy weight champion of 1946?"

Charlie blinked, suddenly feeling as if he'd slipped into another world. He wasn't sure how to answer. Would it make the situation worse? Or would it give him some chance? But feeling the cold stare coming from the woman on the passenger seat, Charlie doubted his position could be much worse.

"Uh yeah. He... he was my father," he managed to say, running his tongue over dry lips. He truly hoped his dad didn't lock up one of Trevor's relatives or something similar, though based on the glint in the man's eyes, Charlie doubted it.

"Oh cool, man! That dude won my old man 200 bucks with that championship! Man, we've eaten good for a whole damn week! Pity he got shot like a pig, but I suppose that was to be expected. Coppers, am I right?" Trevor laughed, his large hand landing heavily on Charlie's shoulder in what could've been taken as a friendly tap.

Under different circumstances.

If his other hand wasn't still holding a loaded gun and aiming it at Charlie's back.

Charlie swallowed, the surprising gesture as well as the loud exclamation and crude comment about his father's death causing his body to stiffen. His leg automatically pushed down against the gas pedal just a bit more forcefully and the car lurched ahead before settling back into the steady speed.

"For God's sake, Trevor!" Mandy rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. "Stop bonding with our hostage! I swear... the worst honeymoon ever."

'_Honeymoon?!'_ Charlie's eyes widened, but he didn't dare to look at her. Were those two serious?

Apparently yes, as they started bickering. Trevor protested that this wasn't his idea indeed, that he just wanted a quick trip to Sydney and enjoy some pub crawling. But no... little miss sunshine wanted something flashy and sparkly to feel pretty. After all, she deserved a better life.

Charlie gritted his teeth, feeling a drop of blood trailing down his neck from the cut on his jaw caused by the sharp fingernails. He didn't dare reach up and brush it off, least he would attract the ire of those two.

Right now Mandy was sniping at Trevor about his lack of money and not wanting to end up like their parents did... poor and dead in some ditch.

Charlie might've had more sympathy for them if he wasn't stuck behind the wheel, held at gunpoint by two crazy idiots. He was truly tempted to just open the door and roll out of the car, but despite the bickering, Mandy was still very much keeping an eye on him. And with his luck he would land clumsily on his feet, twisting his ankle or something. Then he would be a sitting duck... in the middle of hunting season.

Charlie bit down a sigh. He just needed to wait for the right moment. He wasn't sure what it was or what he will do, but he was sure of one thing. He wasn't going to just take this lying down. The chances of a rescue were diminishing with each kilometre, the further he went from Ballarat. He was on his own... with two crazy gun toting individuals. In the middle of the night, on an empty dusty farm road.

Nothing weird about it... nope.

Charlie glanced to the side, as if wanting to make sure this was real. Yup, both Mandy and Trevor were still there. They had fallen into a sulky silence, the fight obviously over for the moment. Charlie wasn't sure if he was thankful for it or not. The silence somehow seemed all the more oppressive.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Blake thought it was likely that Miss Jackson would be already asleep by the time they pulled up to her house. He was a bit hesitant to wake her up - he knew the old lady's heart wasn't in the best condition since her husband's passing. But despite the late hour, the front door to the house opened before Matthew even parked the car.

Miss Jackson stood there, wrapped in her night robe and looking anything but sleepy.

"Ah, Chief Lawson and Dr. Blake?" she called out sounding surprised.

"I thought Sergeant Davis had decided to return after all," she said and Blake thought he detected a bit of regret. "Oh well. Come on in. I suppose an old gal like me was too boring for the young lad." She muttered something under her nose that Blake didn't catch and turned on her heel, heading back to the house quickly.

Matthew and Blake exchanged a look. Blake shrugged and Matthew let out a sigh before following the woman inside.

She offered them tea and biscuits and in the same sentence asked why did they stop by, as if it was a normal occurrence to have a police chief and the police surgeon knocking on ones door after midnight.

Matthew declined the tea, though he did sit down when the woman looked as if he had just declined to marry her daughter. Blake followed, sitting down on the couch in the living room.

"We are sorry to disturb you at this hour, Miss Jackson," Lawson started but she waved him off.

"I wasn't sleeping. I hardly could with the ruckus. I swear that possum will pay. I'll put down poisoned traps all around the house if need be, I don't care. I'm done being kept awake by the blither going through my trash-" she kept ranting even as she poured two cups of tea and handed them to Lawson and Blake, ignoring their previous declination.

"Miss Jackson, I'd really advise you against that. There are other animals that could be harmed-"

"I know, I know," she sighed, shaking her head then walked towards the window and frowned at the darkness outside. "I'll just have to learn how to shoot from my Walter's shotgun and take care of that problem myself," she grumbled, then perked up. "Or maybe you can shoot it for me? Oh really, is that why you came? Are you a better shot than Sergeant Davis?"

Lawson was just in the process of taking a sip of the tea after all when the question came and he inhaled the wrong way. He started coughing and Blake was more than happy to give him a few slaps on the back, even though it was clear they weren't effective in any way. All that got him was a warning glare but Blake could live with that.

Lawson cleared his throat, putting down the cup resolutely.

"Uh, no. We didn't come to shoot the wildlife, Miss Jackson. And I'd advise you to call in some exterminator rather than use your late husband's gun. Or I will have to confiscate it."

Now Miss Jackson glared at Lawson, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, if you didn't come to help, why are you here?"

"As we understand, you called the station some time ago, requesting help?"

"Yes. Am I not allowed to do that anymore?"

"No, of course not. We have no issue with that," Blake jumped in, trying to calm the woman down a bit. Everyone seemed to be jumpy tonight, although for different reasons. "Did Charlie... Sergeant Davis come here to help?"

The woman frowned, eyeing the two of them as if trying to figure out some mystery.

"Yes, he did. A good lad, he always comes when I call. Although he didn't fix my problem, but I suppose 'shooting wildlife' isn't in his job description," she said, giving Lawson just a bit of a stink eye. Blake ignored it... Lawson had handled worse.

"Did anything strange happen while he was here?"

Miss Jackson huffed.

"No, if you don't count the possum."

"So when he left he was acting normal?"

"Well, who am I to know? I've met the man only few times when he came to my call. For all I know he might be acting different when he's somewhere else. And what are these questions supposed to mean? Doesn't he work for you, Superintendant Lawson? Shouldn't _you _know if your people are acting normal?"

It was obvious Lawson regretted ever opening his mouth as he cast a flabbergasted look at Blake. Under any other circumstances, Blake would have let this to play out as it was fun to watch, but right now there was no time for playing around.

"I'm sorry, Miss Jackson. We are asking all the wrong questions. The thing is, there was an incident in the town and we need to get in touch with Sergeant Davis, but... he seems to be missing."

Well, that wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't that much of a lie either. By all rights, if Charlie was alright and nothing had happened to him except for a flat tire, they should've encountered his car on their way here. Charlie had no reason at all to take a different road from Miss Jackson's house to the station, or even to the scene of the robbery. But there was no sign of his car anywhere and Charlie's own words in the radio made it clear that the situation wasn't what it seemed like. The boy was in trouble and the longer they spent sitting around playing twenty questions, the further away from their reach he was probably getting. So Blake felt that nudging the conversation the right way was important.

"Oh my. I don't understand. What could have happened to him?" Miss Jackson's behaviour had changed instantly. "Poor boy. I thought it was strange he was speeding past my house without stopping, but I thought he just got called out somewhere else!"

Matthew and Blake looked at each other, then both spoke at the same time.

"Speeding past?"

"When was that?"

Miss Jackson blinked.

"Why... only shortly after he left my house. I was looking out the window because I was trying to spot that bloody possum. I think I heard it prowling around the moment Sergeant Davis drove off, the little bugger."

"So you saw Charlie's car driving past? Heading out of town?" Blake frowned as Miss Jackson nodded.

"Oh yes. He seemed to be in a hurry too. Driving like the devil was chasing him."

"Did you see anyone in the car with him? Are... are you sure it was him behind the wheel?" Lawson asked and only then did it occur to Blake that Charlie could've been lying in the ditch somewhere, hurt or worse dead, while the robbers were driving off in his police cruiser. Chills ran down his spine.

But no... they heard Charlie on the radio mere thirty minutes ago. He was alright then.

"When did you see him?" Blake jumped in with the question before Miss Jackson could answer the previous one and she seemed momentarily confused, while Lawson just looked annoyed at being interrupted.

"Oh dear, I hope he is alright. I don't know... I'm pretty sure it was more than an hour ago, but I didn't look at my watch."

Blake felt a bit of relief. That meant that Charlie was in the car when it passed by the house and if the robbers hadn't killed him on the spot, his chances at survival were higher.

"And was he alone in the car?"

Miss Jackson grimaced.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't tell. The car sped by, it was dark outside and my eyesight isn't what it used to be. To be honest, it is possible it wasn't even his car but some of your other police cruisers..."

This time it was Lawson who frowned and it was clear he tried to remember whether they sent out any other car this way. Then he shook his head.

"No. We weren't sending anyone here. We are sparse on people right now and the roads leading to larger towns took priority," he said turning towards Blake.

"What even happened? Did Sergeant Davis get himself in some kind of trouble? I sure hope not. Who would come and chase away the possum the next time it came?" Miss Jackson was babbling and Blake took pity on her.

"Miss Jackson, I know of a guy who does good job taking care of problems such as your possum. I'll tell him to give you a call as soon as we make sure Charlie is alright, yes?"

"Oh, you're such a dear, Dr. Blake! Thank you!"

Miss Jackson offered him a plate of biscuits. Blake took one and stood up. Lawson was already on his feet, thumping his cane impatiently.

Blake gave a polite excuse as Lawson was heading out of the door.

"I hope you will find Sergeant Davis alright. It would be a shame if something happened to him."

"I hope as well," Blake said with a sigh as he followed Lawson out into the darkness towards their car.

"What now?"

They were sitting in the car, Matthew behind the wheel, but the engine wasn't turned on yet. Miss Jackson had already returned inside the house, though Blake could see her peeking out the window in confusion. She wasn't the only one.

"Matthew? Come on, we don't have time to lose."

Lawson gave a nod and started the car, but contrary to Blake's expectations, he turned the car over and headed back towards the city.

"What are you doing?"

"Going back to the station," Matthew grumbled, teeth clenched.

"I can see that. But why? Charlie clearly went the other way!"

"I know that!" Lawson snapped back. "But I also know that two miles up there's a crossroad and we don't have a clue which way they went. Did they head to Bendigo? Circle back to Melbourne? Or did they head to some back road, direction Adelaide?"

Lawson had a point, but that didn't mean Blake was just ready to give up.

"So what? Drive there, maybe we will see some clue or..."

"Or what?" Lawson gave him a look and Blake hated the fact he was right.

"We can't just leave and not even try to find him, Matthew."

"I didn't say anything about giving up!" This time it was Lawson who looked pissed off. "But we have a better chance of finding him if we figure out _who _robbed the jewellery store and _where_ they might be headed. They... they haven't killed him right away. That... that must count for something."

Blake took in a deep breath, trying to calm down and start thinking instead. Matthew was right. They needed to be smart about this. Driving around dusty roads without a goal meant that when the time came and there was some information about Charlie's location, they would be simply too far to be of any help.

Thus they had returned to the station, where Blake nervously paced the office while Lawson coordinated the search.

"I think we can pull the blockades from south of Ballarat. If the timeline is right and based on Miss Jackson's statement, they are already outside of the town's city limits."

They were now standing in front of the map, trying to figure out which points would still be viable to check.

Lawson had already pulled three of his man back from the checkpoints to go help Hobart at the scene. Their priority was now to find any possible witnesses who saw the car or the robbers near the jewellery store during the last day or two. Two men were also going over local motels and hotels checking the records. So far there was no trace. It looked like the robbers ventured into town and went straight for the store, however unlikely it was. The idea that this could've been just as likely done by someone local was rather disconcerting.

Lawson was rubbing his temples, occasionally barking at Simmons or one of the other constables who were unlucky to be stuck at the station awaiting orders.

Blake would have liked nothing more than to offer some great advice, but he was flat out of them. He was rather regretful about the fact he let the emergency doctor sedate Mrs. Gaston. Maybe she did see something more... or perhaps heard something useful? Remembered a detail... but no. She was now fast asleep and Blake realized even if she had been awake, she was in no state to think logically right now. It was just wishful thinking and worry about Charlie that made him doubt his own actions.

Another hour passed and the night was slowly turning into early morning. Matthew was now spending more time on the phone than anything else. He was keeping in touch with every police station within three hundred kilometres and coordinating their efforts at blocking the main roads and setting up check points. No one wanted a couple of armed robbers in their town. Even less so if they had a cop cruiser at their disposal.

Blake was somehow still hoping that Charlie had managed to get away and would any moment walk into the station, grumpy but unharmed. The more time passed though the less likely a scenario it was and ever since they left Miss Jackson's house he couldn't rid himself of the image of Charlie lying in some ditch with a bullet in his head. Or maybe otherwise injured, waiting for help that just wasn't coming, because they were sitting on their assess doing nothing.

Blake let out a growl and continued pacing the room, ignoring the annoyed glare from Lawson.

"We can't just keep waiting," he said and as if on cue, a phone on Simmons's desk rang. The constable picked up the phone then quickly stood up and motioned for Lawson to come over.

"Sir, the Bendigo station. Some disgruntled farmer called in about a police car speeding by on his private road, startling his sheep."

Lawson grabbed the phone and gave a third degree to the poor sap on the other end, then slammed the phone down.

"Well?" Blake asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The Bendigo station had no cops out in those parts of the town at the time. They already sent out a car to check. Looks like they were headed east from Bendigo... might be backtracking to Melbourne. They warned the other stations to be on the lookout as well. If they don't change cars or hunker down somewhere, we might get more calls."

"Did they see who was driving?"

Lawson shook his head with a grimace.

"I doubt the farmer was paying much attention outside of the fact a cop car startled his herd."

Blake nodded and grabbed his coat and hat from the hanger.

"Where are you going?" Lawson stepped into his way.

"Bendigo. I'm done waiting around. If someone calls in, I want to be as close as possible to offer help."

Lawson didn't move from his place, only stared at him for a moment and Blake's eyes narrowed.

"Either come with me or step out of my way, Matthew, but I swear to God, I'm bloody done waiting!"

Lawson sighed, then nodded.

"Very well."

He turned towards Simmons.

"Bill should be back shortly. If you get any news, use the radio and say that Blake is looking for me. Nothing else, understood? I'll call in as soon as possible."

"Yes, Boss," Simmons said, looking a bit startled and uncertain. "Uh... where are you going?"

Lawson rolled his eyes, also picking up his coat and the car keys. He still had his gun.

"Heading out to get back our wayward Sergeant. Or at least make sure we don't lose our bull headed surgeon in the process," he grumbled and gave Blake a half-hearted glare. After all, he wasn't anymore happy about waiting around than Lucien.

"Good luck, sir," Simmons called out and Lawson snorted. He wasn't sure if Ned meant good luck in finding Charlie or keeping Blake level headed and out of trouble, but Lawson definitely could use it for both.

* * *

"I think we missed a turn," came from the back seat and Charlie squeezed the wheel tighter, expecting the outburst. He wasn't disappointed.

"I told you it was the other way!" Mandy shouted, one hand slamming against the door, the other with the gun moving a bit to the side so it was now pointing somewhere at Charlie's stomach instead of chest. It was no less threatening however.

"It was those stupid sheep!" Trevor said defensively. "I got confused and probably missed the sign."

"Probably?" Mandy asked incredulous and the argument started again. Charlie would have liked nothing more than to tune it out. Really... he spent only few hours in the car with those two, but they had already got into some heated argument about three times. If it wasn't for the guns pointed at him, Charlie would have either laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation or well... kicked those idiots out of his car. But the guns were there and the more heated the argument became, the more nervous Charlie got. He didn't know how much of a trigger finger either of those two had. He supposed that Trevor was the calmer one... at least, despite his size and crudeness, Charlie didn't think this whole robbery was his idea. Or that he would have had the guts to actually kill someone in cold blood.

The same couldn't be said about Mandy however. That woman... each time Charlie chanced a glance towards his left or caught her face in the rear-view mirror, he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Her eyes were so cold and there was that strange glint... Charlie had seen that glint once or twice before during his service in Melbourne. Both times it was in the eyes of a mad man, either holding someone at gunpoint or about to jump off a bridge. Both times the situation ended badly for more than just the mad man.

Charlie didn't want to be a victim of another crazy person. He just... he couldn't really see a safe way out of this situation. When they passed by that herd of sheep and Charlie wanted to slow down, Mandy had jabbed the gun into his ribs so hard he could feel a bruise growing. It was clear that she didn't care for anyone's safety by that point.

"Don't even think about it, copper," she hissed, pushing the muzzle of the gun harder until Charlie gave a pained gasp and attempted to pull away. She smirked, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

"Drive. And don't you dare slow down unless I tell you."

So that's what Charlie did, with gritted teeth. He was sure at least one or two sheep had hurtled themselves out of the way and were still shaking somewhere in the field from the shock, but they were lucky and none of the sheep ended up on the front of the car.

Charlie maybe shouldn't have felt so shaky afterwards. It was just sheep after all and nothing happened. But he saw the look on her face. Mandy didn't care whether it was sheep. She would've just as easily told him to plough into a group of people. There was no compassion, quite the opposite. It seemed that she thrived on seeing fear and pain in others.

Charlie had to do something. If he didn't... well. He wasn't sure what awaited him at the end of the road, but he knew it was nothing good. And sitting there, listening to Mandy tear into Trevor about picking the wrong turn, while it was her who refused to even slow down and check on the sign by the road made him feel the urge to do something that much stronger. But it wasn't until Trevor said something that Charlie tuned in to their argument.

"Oh, wait, I know it here!" Trevor shouted midst Mandy's tirade about him being an useless idiot. "If we turn right on the next crossroad, the farm shouldn't be more than 20 kilometres away. We can grab our car and get the hell out of dodge, just like we planned, honey," Trevor said, trying to sound uplifting while calming down the situation at the same time.

Mandy was still seething though. She cast a look at Charlie and he felt as if someone had just walked over his grave. His foot had automatically pressed a bit harder against the gas pedal. The faster they went the less chance she would try to shoot him while he was behind the wheel. At least he hoped so.

"And you need to jabber out all our plans in front of the cop? Such an idiot!" she grumbled and Trevor seemed confused.

"What? He has to drive us there anyway."

Charlie swallowed and chanced a glance at her.

She was watching him, thoughtfully.

He didn't like that.

When the corner of her lips turned up in a devious smirk and she said: "Yes, he does," in an awfully innocent voice, Charlie liked it even less.

He couldn't get out of his unharmed, not with her holding the reigns.

Charlie almost forgot Trevor even existed. His priority was to figure out how to escape Mandy. Not even how to arrest her. There was really no way he could disarm both of them without getting shot and secure them safely for a longer period of time. His radio didn't work... and the closest place he could get help at was the farm with the sheep they passed. That was maybe twenty kilometres back. The longer he did nothing... the farther he got from any possible help. And once they reached the place Trevor spoke of...

Charlie had no choice. The following minute passed by excruciatingly slowly. Charlie had started gradually easing off the gas pedal, but at the same time he didn't want the car to be too slow. He needed the momentum to create the distance...

Now he just had to wait for distraction. For Trevor to say something...

"The turn should come up shortly," the man spoke and Mandy turned her head momentarily to look at her husband. The gun in her hand pointed just a bit past Charlie's stomach.

This was the right moment.

Charlie didn't move though.

'_You're a cop, son. This isn't just about you!'_

Charlie wasn't sure whose voice it was. It sounded a lot like his father, even though the face that popped out in the back of his mind was that of Lawson. That didn't matter, because it was right.

He couldn't jump out of the car and just let these people go. It was his _job_ to protect others. And what would happen if those two caught someone else? An innocent civilian? No, Charlie couldn't bail, not unless he knew the two didn't pose a danger to someone else. Not to mention... dropping out of a moving car didn't guarantee his chances of survival rising. Quite the contrary. And Charlie would hate to kill himself in a stupid attempt at a supposed act of 'heroism'.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, purposefully ignoring the narrowed eyes locked on his face. His hands were clutching the wheel and he focused on the road.

"Where... where do I turn?" he asked, clearing his throat. He might've been arguing with himself in silence for over an hour now, but he spoke very little out loud.

"Right at the next crossroad," Trevor piped up and Charlie nodded. He kept the car at a lower speed to make sure he didn't miss it and tried to figure out another way. What should he do once they stopped?

Maybe he could try to disarm Mandy there... when they were getting out of the car.

Or maybe he could just plunge the car head first into the wall... that was also an option, however unfortunate for Charlie.

There was a strange stifling silence inside the car and Charlie wished he could just roll down the window on his side a bit more, but he didn't try. It felt as if any movement or sound might trigger the woman next to him and that was the last thing he wanted.

Charlie could do silent. He had spent hours listening to the Doc talking about one thing or another in excitement.

A feeling of wistfulness fell upon him as Charlie wondered whether he would ever again speak with his family and friends. Whether he would see the sun come up.

It was still so dark outside... even the stars seemed to vanish behind clouds. The headlights were the only thing providing some illumination and Charlie found that a bit bothersome on the rickety road they were travelling right now. He didn't like driving around in the dark in the town, even less so out in the bush.

"Where the hell is that crossroad?" Mandy snarled suddenly, impatiently. "I thought you said we're getting to it, Trevor." She turned at Charlie.

"I swear to God, if you missed it... I'll blow your brain out right here!" she said and as if to prove her point, pushed the gun against Charlie's temple.

The feeling was disconcerting enough. Charlie jerked away on instinct. His eyes locked on the gun instead of the road...

Until he heard Trevor's warning shout and peripherally saw a dark shadow jump right in front of the car.

Charlie didn't think.

He just reacted.

His foot landed on the break while his hands turned the wheel in an attempt to steer the car away from whatever was there.

The headlights momentarily illuminated a large kangaroo... dead still in the middle of the road. Large eyes shining, reflecting the headlights.

Charlie cursed.

The car did swerve, but the wheels lost traction and Charlie lost control.

All he could see were some bushes, a ditch and a tree as the car shook and drove off the side of the road.

Everything was shaking as Charlie still clung to the wheel, trying unsuccessfully to take back some control. He saw the tree and there was nothing he could do but brace himself.

It didn't help.

Charlie heard Mandy scream right before the impact.

He felt his body being flung forward, against the steering wheel.

The air rushed out of him, but he didn't notice. His head crashed against something hard and the lights went out. There was no sound, no pain and no fear.

If Charlie's mind hadn't turned off at that point, he would have been quite content.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Trevor wasn't a bad person... at least that's what he would like to think. His life wasn't anything extraordinary. He had two younger brothers, a father that drank himself to death a few years back and a mother that had long ago given up trying to raise her children as valid members of the society. Trevor didn't mind. He worked a low paid job, occasionally helping out a friend move around some furniture... from a stranger's house into their own or the shop. He had his run-ins with the Melbourne coppers, but never anything serious. Never anything that would land him in jail for more than a few days.

Until he met Mandy at least. That woman... Trevor still didn't know why she even looked his way. True, he wasn't ugly, on the contrary. He was well built and had a killer grin... one of the only good things he inherited from his old man. But he had no money to speak of. No future beyond a boring ass nine to five job at the shipyard.

Despite that, when he saw Mandy at the pub one night, Trevor asked her for a dance. That night he learned that Mandy was the only daughter of a farmer whose wife died in childbirth. He learned that she was raised as a farm hand since young age and worked by her father's side until the farm went down due to draught and subsequent fire. That her father shot himself few days later, leaving her with a farm house and a worthless land in the middle of nowhere. She had a roof over her head, but not much else, so she took off into the city to look for some happiness.

Trevor fell in love with her that night.

It took a bit longer for Mandy to reciprocate that feeling, but after several weeks she seemed to fall for him too. As much as she was capable of falling for anyone, Trevor realized upon reminiscing.

Mandy wasn't like anyone else he knew. She could be sweet as honey one second and angry as a wasp the next. Trevor learned quickly on that something wasn't right with Mandy, but he couldn't help himself. He was already too deep in love with her. With her fierceness, the glint in her eyes when something made her happy. With her passion and strength.

It didn't take long that he confessed to her about his occasional night outs to get in a bit of extra money. He wasn't sure why he did it... perhaps he didn't want to have any secrets between them. Or maybe he was afraid she would find him too boring... too mundane. When she stayed silent for a minute he worried that maybe he read her all wrong... that she would be repulsed by this.

But then her eyes shone bright with excitement. Trevor wasn't sure why. He was just happy she didn't run off, scared. He had no clue that in a few months it would be him who would feel apprehension about the situation.

Like just now.

It was Mandy's idea to go and rob a jewellery store. She said she knew just the place to do it... an easy job that would give them enough money to start anew in some other town. Maybe they could head out to Sydney. Live the life they dreamed of.

Trevor wasn't so keen on the idea at first, but then... then his foreman pissed him off and Trevor kicked his ass. Which roughly translated into losing his job and getting a reputation. Melbourne seemed suddenly too small... and the thought of starting anew sounded promising.

It was a pity that the owner of the store was living just above. They hadn't known that. Or maybe Mandy did, but didn't think to share. Trevor hoped not. Especially not after he saw his lovely wife aim her pistol at the old guy and pull the trigger.

Trevor was frankly in shock. He saw the look of surprise and pain cross over the guy's face before he fell to the floor with a loud thud. He watched the blood start pooling under him and he would have probably still be standing there if Mandy hadn't slapped him on the face and pushed him towards the door.

There was not a second of hesitation in her. Nor a hint of remorse.

Trevor didn't want to think about what that meant. For him or for their future.

He tried not to think about the fact he was pointing a gun at a cop and riding in the back of a cop car. He really didn't want to think about what would happen next.

So he might've missed a turn. Who could blame him. It wasn't like he had spent so much time around his cousin's place outside of Bendigo. He knew where the house lay, he knew there would be a car in the garage and he knew his cousin was away for the next few weeks in Adelaide on business. What he didn't know was that they would be heading there in the middle of the night in a cop car and that he won't be the one driving.

Somehow, everything looked different from the back seat.

Especially his wife.

He put up a token fight to his defence when she accused him of missing the turn. His mind wasn't exactly focused at the moment. All he could think of was the old guy laying on the floor, bleeding. He wanted to ask if she thought he was dead. He wanted to ask why she couldn't have just knocked him on the back of his head, because he didn't see her.

But Trevor wasn't that stupid. He saw the way Mandy held the gun, how she pointed it at the cop. The glint in her eyes. And he knew that asking that question would just make her so much more angry. So he stayed silent.

The atmosphere in the car was stifled and quiet. Until Mandy grew impatient.

"Where the hell is that crossroad?" she snarled and Trevor winced "I thought you said we're getting to it. I swear to God, if you missed it... I'll blow your brain out right here!"

For a moment Trevor thought she meant him and a shiver ran down his spine. Then he saw the cop wince as the gun was pushed against his skull and Trevor let out a sigh of relief.

Everything went wrong after that.

Something jumped in front of the car, Trevor could see that but he couldn't really discern what it was from the back seat. All he could see was a shadow, a glint of reflected light and then dirt and rocks flying as the cop tried to swerve.

The car jumped and Trevor felt his bones rattle. When it came to a sudden halt, Trevor was still moving. He was thrown against the back of the driver's seat with such force that his teeth clicked painfully.

For a blessed second all was silent... all was motionless. Then Trevor blinked and heard his wife moan in pain.

"Bloody hell," he muttered and gingerly pushed himself off the seat. He felt his face, cringing. There was no blood, but he could feel a bruise already forming. His nose and right eye felt sore as well as his arms and shoulders that caught most of the impact.

He was lucky though. As far as he could tell, nothing was broken, nothing hurt too much. Trevor let out a breath of relief and grasped for the gun that had fallen from his hold. It was under the seat and even though he wanted to see how was Mandy, he also dreaded it.

Finally grabbing hold of the gun, Trevor straightened on the seat and looked ahead, assessing the damage.

He blinked once again when he realized he was staring at the trunk of a tree. Hell, they had to be the unluckiest bastards in this part of the world to crash into possibly only cluster of trees this side of Australia. Although... Trevor assumed the copper had to have managed to slow down considerably, otherwise this head on collision would have most likely killed them all. The front glass was already broken into pieces.

"Trevor!" Mandy hissed at him and Trevor snapped out of his morbid thoughts, back into reality. Right. Crash. He needed to help his wife.

"I'm here," he said unnecessarily and leaned over. His wife had a gash on her left temple which was sluggishly bleeding, but otherwise she seemed quite unharmed. Unlike Trevor, she even kept the hold of the gun.

"Are you okay?" he asked hastily and reached out to cradle her face worriedly, when she hissed a curse and pointed to the driver's seat.

"Make sure... he's out cold."

Trevor startled. He momentarily forgot about the cop and he frowned. He didn't really care about the guy.

"I want to know that you're alright," he insisted and Mandy froze up a bit, seemingly in contemplation. Trevor didn't know what she was thinking about, but for just a second her eyes softened and she almost smiled. The moment was gone too quickly though and her face turned cold... commanding.

"The cop... Trevor!" she said, turning with a grimace of pain towards the driver's seat, the gun in her hand shaking ever so slightly.

Trevor looked at the cop and let out a sigh.

"He's out cold," he said, rather unnecessarily. The cop ... Davis was his name, and Trevor had to cringe every time it crossed his mind ... was laying on the steering wheel. There was blood covering his face from where he most likely hit the glass. He didn't seem conscious... hell, if it wasn't for the still bleeding gash on his forehead Trevor would've thought him dead. But dead people didn't bleed, right?

Still, Trevor reached out and put his hand against the man's neck. If he'd decided to come back to consciousness all of a sudden, Trevor could always use a chokehold on him, at least partially. But it was unnecessary. The cop didn't even twitch at the touch.

"He's alive at least," Trevor let out a sigh of relief. It was one thing to shoot that old dude at the store. He knew he was in a world of trouble for that already. But killing a cop? No. That... that just wouldn't fly.

He looked back at his wife and was dismayed to see a look of disappointment on her face. She masked it quickly with a flinch of pain, but he had seen it anyway. And despite his love for her, it was just one more nail in the proverbial coffin. Just one more worm settling in his mind, spreading doubt. Was this really the right thing to do? The right path to take?

But he could hardly change his decisions now. All he could do was go ahead and try to salvage the mess. Once they were somewhere safe... once he had enough time to think, he might just change his mind about where his future was headed. Till then though... they had to survive and escape.

"What... what now?" he asked, already dreading the possible answer.

Mandy grimaced, her left hand reaching down towards her knee. Trevor followed it with his eyes and noted the strange way she was holding her leg.

"Honey? Did you get hurt?"

"I banged my knee when this idiot crashed the car!" she said and jabbed the gun into the cop's side. The only indication the cop felt anything was the slight twitch of his left arm, as if trying to protect his side. He didn't wake though, which for some reason seemed to anger Mandy even more. She growled and was about to smack the gun into the guy once more when Trevor leaned over and blocked the space between them. Now was not the time to deal with a temper tantrum.

"Hey, stop it. We don't want him awake," he said, although he doubted it hold true for both of them.

"Why, I would love nothing better," Mandy uttered through clenched teeth, but stopped trying to assault the cop and instead focused on her leg. "Damn. I don't know if I can walk on this," she said and once again she sounded like a small girl, hurt and alone. Trevor's heart went out to her.

"Let me see," he tried to lean over a bit more but there was really no space. With a huff, he opened the door and stepped out of the car, intent on getting to her. Once he stood on the ground though he got a look at the damage. The lights of the car were still on, although the front right one kept blinking in and out of life. It didn't matter though. Trevor could see that the car won't be moving anywhere anytime soon. The engine was dead and the right front tire seemed to be... bent, for the lack of better word. Even if the car had been in a driving order, the front seemed to have merged with the tree.

With a sigh, Trevor walked around the car, stumbling over a ditch and some rocks. He saw movement from the road and instinctively drew his gun, but as the shadow hopped off Trevor realized it was a kangaroo. A blasted kangaroo. He should've just shot the damn thing, but by the time he figured it out the animal had scattered.

Trevor spit out a curse then focused on his main goal.

He tugged at the passenger seat door, ready to open it but was dismayed to find it didn't budge. He tried two more times without much success and kicked at the door for good measure.

"It's stuck," he growled but Mandy was already rolling down the window.

"I don't care. I want out of this damn car," she grumbled and with one glance towards the still unconscious cop, she reached out of the window.

"Help me get out," she said and Trevor did just that. With some grumbling and pained yelps from his wife, he pulled her out of the car and gently put her down on the ground. They took a moment to just catch their breath as Mandy was rubbing at her left knee, grimacing in pain.

"The car is a bust," Trevor said into the silence.

"I can see that," she snorted. "We will have to walk to the farm. How far do you think it is? We better make it before sun comes up."

Trevor frowned.

"Can you walk on that leg?"

Mandy looked at him then tried to stand up. She was strong headed, he would give her that. But as soon as she tried to make a step she gave a pained grunt, swaying to the side. Trevor caught her before she fell, depositing her back on the ground.

"You'll have to help me."

He nodded, figuring as much. There was just one problem with that.

"What about the cop? We can't keep an eye on him if I have to carry you."

Mandy rolled her eyes.

"Does he look like he could walk anyway?"

Trevor looked into the car. The cop hadn't stirred yet.

"Do we just leave him here? What if he wakes up and goes for help?"

Mandy shrugged, her eyes running over the car, pausing at the trunk. A small smile slipped on her face and she nodded.

"Put him in there. He won't get out until someone finds him."

Trevor frowned. He wasn't sure the cop would even fit into the trunk. On the other hand... he could just feel that the other option Mandy would voice was to simply shoot him. Trevor didn't want to risk entertaining that option, so he nodded.

"Okay," he said with a sigh and stood up. First he walked towards the trunk and popped it open. It went stiffly, as if something had bent in the mechanism from the crash. Well, that wasn't his problem. Whomever would discover the cop would just have to use a bit more force to open the trunk. He viewed the inside of the trunk and grabbed the few items lying around to make space for a person. Once the spare tire was out as well, Trevor was satisfied and headed for the driver's door. This one was at least possible to open, even though it got jammed halfway. But Trevor gave it a good kick and the door gave way. The cop twitched at the sound.

Trevor cursed and grabbed for him, feeling a sudden haste to get this done. He would have much preferred not having to deal with an awake copper. As he lugged the dead weight, he heard a groan.

"Shut up," he hissed as he threw the cop over his broad shoulders. The cop made another sound of discomfort, but nothing intelligible and it was lost in Trevor's own grunts at the effort he was extending.

The few steps around the car seemed much harder than he would've liked and Trevor wasn't really looking forward to the thought of carrying Mandy for the next ten or fifteen kilometres.

He threw the cop into the trunk, receiving another sound of protest.

"Wha-" the cop grunted and blinked, but it was obvious he was still too dazed to make head and heel of the situation. Trevor nudged at his legs to make sure he was all inside the trunk and he was reaching up to close it before the cop could properly wake up, when Mandy called out to him.

"Cut the line first!"

"What?" Trevor froze mid motion.

"The line inside the trunk... or he will be able to open it from the inside!" she said, irritated. Trevor gritted his teeth. Of course. How the hell could he have forgotten that? He pulled out a knife from his back pocket and swiftly cut the line. As he was closing the trunk, he saw a pair of wide eyes looking at him, startled.

"Sorry man," he uttered silently as the trunk slammed close. He heard a muffled cry of protest from the inside, but it was weak.

Mandy stood up just then and on one leg hobbled towards the back seat. She leaned in and grabbed their bag with the loot. She had a grin on her face as Trevor stepped towards her, taking the bag in one hand and offering the other as support. They took only a few steps when Trevor once again heard the weak call from the inside of the trunk. Weak and breathless.

"Will he be able to breathe in there?" he wondered out loud and Mandy stopped. Her face was split in the familiar grin that Trevor usually associated with some cheekiness coming. This time it gave him a pause though.

"Oh. You're right, darling. We can't leave him like this." With that Mandy raised her own gun and aimed it at the trunk.

Two shots were fired, the bullets piercing the metal.

There was a pained cry then nothing but silence.

"Here. Now he should have plenty of air," Mandy said with a smirk as she put the gun behind her belt and indicated for Trevor to keep going.

Trevor was too stunned to protest. He took hold of his wife... the gentle woman he fell in love with.

The woman who could skin a rabbit under a minute, a woman who very likely shot two people to death within the last few hours.

Trevor carried her back to the road and towards the rising sun.

* * *

It was Lawson who spotted the car. It was no wonder really. Blake was the one driving and although he was trying to keep an eye out for the familiar blue, he also needed to focus on the bumpy road. They already had to slow down to let a kangaroo pass by and Blake was glad he saw it in time.

The sun was up for the last two hours. That was how long it took them to drive to Bendigo from Ballarat and to get the address of the farmer that called in the disturbance. They also had to find the man as he was already out in the fields, but when they finally managed, he pointed them towards one of the less travelled country roads.

"That's where they went off," he said grumpily, his face being adorned by a glare worthy of Lawson himself.

"They? Did you see how many people were in the car?" Blake asked, hoping to get a positive answer.

"Ah, sorry mate. No, I just assumed. I think I saw someone on the passenger seat, but it was still too dark to see properly."

Blake let out a disappointed sigh while Lawson thanked the man and bid his good bye. They needed to get moving if they wanted to catch up with Charlie.

At least they were hoping they still had some time, though by every passing minute Blake felt the worry gnaw at his stomach sharper. God, he would have killed for a shot of whiskey just then. Or well, for having a clue where Charlie was.

Lawson had lost his patience over an hour ago and he reached for the radio, calling Charlie on it. They both waited with bathed breaths for a reply, but the channel was silent. After two more attempts Lawson gave up. It was obvious Charlie either couldn't get to the radio or well...

Blake didn't want to think about that.

So they followed the road the farmer pointed them at, very much aware of how small a chance there was that they would catch up with Charlie. As far as they knew, there weren't any new reports from the area about the speeding police car... not that many people would have called in such a sight. After all, police cars usually had a good reason for speeding.

"Here! Stop the car!" Lawson shouted suddenly and Blake jerked, his foot slamming on the breaks instinctively. The car came to a sudden halt and they both grunted as they were propelled forward.

"Damn it, Blake!" Lawson grumbled, but it was only half hearted. He was already reaching for the door.

"You wanted to stop, I stopped," Blake said, annoyed at being startled as well as reacting in such a way. It was the stress, he thought as he also exited the car and looked towards where Lawson pointed.

He had to squint a bit, the sun very much shining into his eyes, but once he spotted the blue he couldn't unsee it.

"Charlie?" Blake called out, ignoring Lawson's glare and the signal to stay where he was. He understood Lawson's concern about the robbers popping out from behind the bushes, but he couldn't help it. The car... it was a wreck.

Maybe not a total wreck, but even from the road he could see it must've crashed into the tree hard. He could see the front window shattered and if Charlie was driving... he must've been hurt.

Still, Lawson grabbed his arm and pushed him behind himself, pulling out a gun.

"Let me check the perimeter," he uttered in low voice and even though Blake wanted to just run ahead and look inside the car, to call out Charlie's name until the boy answered, for once he did as he was told.

With gritted teeth, he kept behind Lawson, who circled the car. They both listened to any sounds that would show a presence of someone else.

All was quiet.

Nothing moved.

Finally, Lawson peered into the car.

Blake heard a curse and his heart sank.

He knew it meant Charlie wasn't there. If he had been... in whatever state... Lawson's reaction would have been different.

"They are gone," Lawson muttered and with one last look around put the gun back to its holster.

Blake didn't speak. He walked up to the car and peered inside at the driver's seat. He looked for blood, for signs of possible injuries the driver or the passengers could've acquired.

He found some on the steering wheel and on the broken shards from the front glass. The blood was disconcerting, but there wasn't that much of it and Blake knew from experience that head wounds tended to bleed nevertheless.

"If he was dead or seriously injured," Lawson spoke, pulling Blake from his musings, "they would have just left him here."

The words seemed encouraging, but the tone was still grim.

Blake nodded, then raised his blood coated fingers.

"If he was the one driving, he was injured. And based on the clotting... I'd say the crash happened a few hours ago. If they were on foot, they can be quite far away."

Lawson grimaced.

"They might. But if any of them were injured, it would slow them down. This road isn't that frequented. We haven't seen anyone coming up, so I suppose they continued ahead. If they haven't encountered some other driver... they are probably still walking."

Blake nodded, feeling a sliver of hope.

"We need to get moving then."

"Yes, just as soon as we look around a bit more. Look at that," Lawson pointed at the broken radio. "No wonder he didn't radio back."

Blake grimaced. He really hoped that Charlie wasn't in a situation when he tried to call for help but none was coming. He gave a quick look at the back seat of the car. The seat was pushed forward a bit and there was a jacket strewn over it. It was Charlie's jacket but there was no blood on it. Blake stepped back from the car, while Lawson was going over the inside with his flashlight turned on.

They really didn't have time for this.

Nervous and wanting to move, Blake had started looking around the car. Looking for traces of blood, looking for any clue how many people had left it and in what state.

Unfortunately, the ground was dry and cracked and there were no visible footprints in the dirt. But he did spot few drops of blood.

Swallowing, he followed them towards the trunk.

"Matthew."

Blake's voice sounded hollow even to his own ears, but he couldn't help it. He stood frozen in front of the trunk and all he could see were the two bullet holes and a bloody handprint.

"What?" Lawson asked, pulling his head out from the car, a frown marring his face.

"We... we need to open this," Blake said, still in a whisper. "Now!"

Lawson saw the trunk and nodded wordlessly.

Blake didn't wait for more. He grabbed the trunk, pulling at it even before Lawson could unlock it. There should've been a click. There was none, and the trunk didn't budge.

Blake pulled at it with a curse on his lips.

"Open, damn it!" he grunted, desperation colouring his voice. It had been two hours at least since the sun came up. The trunk was already hot to the touch. If Charlie was injured and locked up... every second counted. It might be too late... he might already be dead...

Lawson handed him a wrench.

Blake blinked, for a moment stopping his efforts.

"Where did you get this?"

Lawson nodded towards the nearby bush.

"There's the spare wheel as well. Looks like they were in a rush to make space."

Blake gritted his teeth, because that just confirmed his theory.

He took hold of the wrench and with one swift move fuelled by desperation, the trunk's lid popped open.

"Bloody hell," Lawson said and Blake couldn't but nod gravely.

The trunk was empty.

There was no Charlie.

"Bloody hell indeed," Blake said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

The trunk was empty... that was true. There was no body.

But...

The bloody puddle coating the inside of it wasn't any less horrifying.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Someone had taken a hammer to his head.

For the life of him, Charlie couldn't tell what was going on. He only felt the screaming headache and something warm trickling down his face. He wanted to reach up and brush away whatever it was, but his limbs didn't listen. Nothing really listened and Charlie spent some time just wondering whether he was asleep or dead. Both possibilities however seemed to be a bit improbable, seeing as he felt pain.

"It's stuck!" A man's voice spoke, shortly followed by a woman.

"I don't care, I want out of this damn car!"

None of them seemed to be happy and Charlie couldn't blame them. It seemed there were others in trouble, not just him. His addled mind took a moment to take in the words though.

'_Car? What car?'_ Charlie wondered and his hand twitched. He wanted to move, to feel around and figure out his surroundings, because he sure as hell wasn't in his bed.

But the voices stopped him. Not the words... but the tone. The woman's voice made a chill run down his spine and some inner instinct told Charlie to stay still. To play dead.

So he did. He tried to focus, to figure out what was going on from the muffled words. He could feel movement close by, he could even feel an occasional brush of a hand against his arm. Or a kick to his ribs, as someone - the woman? - tried to leave the car.

Charlie was now aware of where he was. His mind had managed to put together a picture of the night. Albeit it was muddled and confusing, one thing was clear. Charlie had picked up some passengers he would be better off not knowing. They were armed and they were dangerous. While Charlie didn't really remember the crash or what preceded it, he knew that the woman - Mandy? - would definitely blame him for it. Playing dead felt like the right choice, at least for the moment. Maybe they would ignore him and leave.

Or maybe they would just decide to put a bullet into his head, to put him out of his misery.

Charlie swallowed and risked peering open one eye.

It was still mostly dark outside... at least Charlie hoped so. His eyesight seemed to be a bit off and when he spotted movement to his side, he quickly shut his eye. No sense in giving up his charade just yet.

He could hear some arguing and curses coming from Mandy. Charlie wondered if she was hurt and how bad it was. Maybe he should have felt guilty, being the one behind the wheel, but he was far from it. Secretly, he hoped Mandy was hurt badly enough to slow her down and give the others a chance to catch her. Whether it will be with his assistance or not remained to be seen.

There was a sound of metal creaking and Charlie almost jumped out of his skin. His breathing became faster, but he managed to stop his body from showing signs of awakening... at least until a pair of hands grabbed him roughly and started pulling him out of the seat.

Charlie couldn't help it, he grunted. The movement jarred his head and he had to swallow down sudden nausea.

"Shut up," Trevor hissed and dug his shoulder into Charlie's stomach as he threw him over in a fireman's carry.

Charlie tried to keep silent, he really did. Something in Trevor's tone told him it was in his best interest to keep playing dead. But being moved around in such a manner... hanging head down, Charlie felt the blood rush into his head. It bloody hurt and he wanted to hurl and scream but didn't get a chance.

Gravity seemed to become obsolete as he was manhandled and this time he felt himself falling backwards. His back hit something hard and unyielding, only luck keeping him from smacking his head against the floor and knocking himself out straight. Charlie couldn't keep pretending anymore.

"What-"

His eyes opened to see a blurry figure leaning threateningly over him. There was something else above him and his legs were at a strange angle...

No sooner did Charlie think that, Trevor had reached out and pushed his legs into the cramped space.

'_Where the hell am I?'_ Charlie wondered, his breathing speeding up, heart beating in his chest wildly. He tried to get up, to take a look around... to put up a fight, but his head was reeling from the sudden change of position. Everything was blurry.

The shape towering over him was about to close the lid... and that's when Charlie realized he was in the trunk. They put him in the freaking trunk and were about to close the lid!

Charlie couldn't believe it. He tried to push himself up, but his arms felt useless. His head was spinning too much and he had to close his eyes for a second just to will his stomach to back down.

"Cut the line!" he heard Mandy and let out a groan. What line? What was she talking about?

Charlie caught sight of the knife moving in one swift motion above his head and he froze, eyes wide.

Was Trevor about to slit his throat?

"Sorry man," Trevor said softly as Charlie gazed at him, unable to do anything. It wasn't until the heavy lid of the car slammed closed that Charlie found his voice.

"Wait, no!" he called out at the sudden darkness. "Hey! Please... let me out!" he shouted, panicking. The space was too cramped... there was no air. He would suffocate...

Charlie's fist bumped against the inside of the lid, but it was a pitiful attempt to gain attention.

The voices were leaving... leaving him there to die.

Charlie whimpered and tried to call out one more time.

The voices were coming closer.

Charlie froze.

Suddenly, he worried that maybe he pissed them off. Maybe it would have been better to wait a bit? Try to get out once they were gone. Charlie remembered the glint of cold rage in the woman's eyes during the ride. He instinctively curled up and pushed his back against the back side of the trunk in case it opened and he would be a recipient of an angry punch.

What came, however, was much worse.

Charlie wasn't sure what exactly happened.

He just heard two loud pops and felt a fire brush against his arm and side.

He cried out at the initial pain, then fell silent and still. Something told him it was the smartest thing to do, if he wanted to survive.

He held still, eyes shut tight, swallowing down the whimpers of pain for what felt like eternity. He held still as long as he could. Then he let out a shaky breath that turned into a groan.

There was no reaction. No sound.

Charlie hoped that meant he was alone.

Right now, he would prefer loneliness to being shot at.

He knew that was what happened, although he had never been shot before. But the sounds and the pain... there was no other conclusion.

Waiting a few more minutes... and Charlie hoped it was indeed just a few minutes and not whole hours passing by in his muddled brain, Charlie had finally let go of the pain. He let out a pained moan and when no other shot came, he dared to move.

First thing he needed to do was to figure out the damage. His right arm felt like on fire, same with his right side. He wiggled his left arm free from underneath his body and reached shakily towards his arm.

Somehow, that was the less scary wound in his mind. His fingers brushed against a jagged wound. Charlie felt his stomach turn. It wasn't a wound... it was a hole. But... it wasn't the only one, he found out as he felt around the arm gingerly.

A clear through and through it seemed.

The thought did nothing for the pain. While Charlie told himself this was good, the bullet didn't stay in and he wouldn't need a surgery, all his brain was coming up with was the fact there were _two _points of pain, _two _points from which blood was leaving him.

He wanted to stop the bleeding, to grasp the arm just above the wound and stop the blood flow. Let the site go numb and take the pain with it.

But that was a childish thought and it would mean his only useful arm would be too busy to do anything else. Like try and find a way out of this predicament.

So Charlie swallowed down the urge and let go of his arm, grimacing at the warm stickiness now coating his fingers. There was still the other wound to check.

Charlie felt his throat tighten, nausea creeping up with the nerves. He didn't want to touch the place, didn't want to know how bad it really was. Because what if it was really bad? What if he had a bullet in his gut, stuck in a trunk of his own car in the middle of nowhere? What then?

He worried that once he knew the damage, the pain would truly hit him. Right now it was just a burning. Painful, but tolerable. If he discovered something though...

'_Suck it up, Charlie. You need to stop the bleeding!'_

It was Blake's voice of course. Always the doctor.

Charlie knew he should listen and so he did. With shaky fingers he touched his side.

A hiss escaped him... then a relieved sigh.

He moved his hand gingerly and even though the fire spread, going towards his back, Charlie thought he might get out of this after all.

There was no bullet hole... only a deep and long graze across his side, just a bit under his ribs. It was bleeding sluggishly as far as he could tell, but not alarmingly so. Even though every breath he took stretched the skin, the wound itself wouldn't kill him. Now infection, that was something else... but seeing as he was locked in the trunk, Charlie thought he would either be rescued or dead long before he would have to deal with that.

And if he didn't do something... the latter option was becoming more than likely, Charlie thought grimly. Through the two bullet holes in the trunk he could see the sun was coming up.

He didn't fancy finding out whether the tree he crashed into provided enough shadow. He knew that come noon, he would already be as good as dead from overheating. The car would turn into an oven.

His head hurt and the air inside the trunk was already heavy with the smell of blood. Charlie moved a bit forward, as close to the holes in the trunk as he could. The movement made him groan, but he didn't stop until he could breathe in some fresh air.

For a moment he just lay there... taking in slow breaths, trying to still his body in hopes of chasing away the pain. It didn't help. The trunk was small and he was curled up like a pretzel. While he knew there was air coming in, it felt like too little, too slow.

Charlie's heart kept pumping fast and the smell of his own blood was making him nauseous but he knew he couldn't get sick. Not here. It would only strengthen the hell and humiliation he was currently experiencing.

"Think, Charlie, think," he kept muttering, somehow comforted by the sound of his own voice.

"I need to get out."

That was the only thing that kept coming back to him.

'Get out!'

'Yes, but how?'

Charlie grunted and smacked his right leg into the lid of the trunk.

It didn't budge.

Charlie groaned in pain.

Maybe he could kick out the lights? Yes... that was one of the things they mentioned at the academy. Well, it wasn't really in the curriculum, but it was something the instructor mentioned when talking about old cases. A kidnapping... and how the victim was saved, because she kicked out the light and the car behind noticed her arm sticking out of the opening, waving for help.

That would be actually useful... if Charlie wasn't stuck in a crashed car somewhere off of a dirt road in the middle of the bushes. He could stick his arm out, but he wouldn't gain much unless someone happened to be coming his way. He supposed that he might at least get a bit more air in that way, however.

Steeling himself for the discomfort, Charlie attempted to position himself just so his legs would be in line with the light. He kicked.

Then he yelped in pain. His side felt as if it had split open and Charlie could feel more fresh blood being soaked up by his shirt and his pants.

Nope, the bit of fresh air wasn't worth bleeding out.

Charlie curled up into foetal position and pressed his right arm against the wound to try and slow the bleeding.

For a long moment, Charlie just lay there breathing in and out, counting to ten. Rinse and repeat.

The throbbing in his head wasn't making his thinking any clearer and Charlie found himself dozing off. It was as his hand slipped down his side a bit that he jerked awake, blinking.

He could see there was more light outside and he cursed. He couldn't just fall asleep and wait for rescue. He had no doubt that Lawson and Blake were on their way, but he wouldn't bet his life on them arriving in time. The air in the trunk was already stuffy and the sun hasn't even risen properly.

'Think, Charlie. What... what did dad teach you about that?'

'Nothing. Why would he ever need to?' Charlie protested in his own mind, then frowned. No, that wasn't right. There was something... something Mikey did a few days after their dad brought home their first - and only - car.

Ray and Mikey were outside playing hide and seek, while Charlie and his dad were washing the car. Charlie could remember clearly it was in the middle of the summer, hot as hell when his father decided to clean the trunk as well. Unfortunately, Charlie was so enthusiastic to help that he stumbled over the bucket of soapy water, sending it splashing right at his father. It wasn't a big deal and they laughed it off as Norm sent Charlie to fill up the bucket once again. Shortly afterwards Norm decided to follow his son inside to grab something cool to drink in the meantime. They weren't gone for more than five minutes, Charlie couldn't imagine it was even that, when they heard Ray calling for their brother.

"Come on, Mikey! That's no fun! The car is against the rules!"

Charlie frowned and walked outside. He saw Ray standing by the car, glaring at the closed trunk. He could also hear his little brother thumping at the trunk from the inside, sounding suddenly panicked.

"It's dark! Let me out! Ray! Charlie! Daddy!" Mikey screeched, panic clearly overtaking him.

Charlie cringed. He didn't know why would Mikey get into the trunk, or why he would close it. The kid was deathly scared of darkness ever since Ray told him about the bogeyman. Ray's payback was that ever since, Mikey needed to sleep with the bedside lamp on. Sharing the same room, Charlie thought it a fitting punishment for his kid brother.

"What's going on?" Norm stepped out of the house as well, frowning. He took one look at the startled looking Ray and walked over to the front of the car to pull the lever. The lock of the trunk clicked. Norm opened it and stoically stood there while Mikey launched himself up, throwing his arms around his father's waist.

"Daddy! It was so dark! And I couldn't get out!" Mikey sniffled.

Norm patted him on the head then in one sweeping motion lifted him up and put him on the grass.

"Of course it was dark, it's the trunk. Why would you crawl in? I told you... I told _all _of you," Norm looked around, his gaze settling on each boy for a few seconds, "not to touch the car if I'm not here."

Mikey sniffled again. "'m sorry, daddy. We were playing hide and seek and it was my turn to hide and I just wanted to pull down the lid a bit cause Ray wouldn't look but it closed and I couldn't open it and it was so dark! I was so scared!" Mikey blubbered then for good measure threw his arms around his father once again. Norm looked like he wanted to berate the kid, but in the end he just sighed and ruffled his son's hair. The kid was after all only five years old. Charlie wondered how he even managed to close the lid.

"Okay, okay, calm down. You're fine now, Mikey. But I want you to promise me you will never try to hide inside the car, not unless I tell you to. Promise?"

Mikey looked up and gave a serious nod.

"I promise, daddy. I don't like the dark."

Norm looked at Ray until he begrudgingly made the same promise. The seven year old obviously didn't see a reason to make such ridiculous promises, but he also didn't want to anger their father.

Charlie raised an eyebrow when Norm looked at him, but nodded.

"Good. Now come on here, all of you."

The three Davis boys gathered around Norm, curious.

"While I do believe you will keep your promise," he held all of their gazes, until they all nodded, "things can happen. So you better be prepared, right?"

"Yes, daddy," Mikey said seriously and Charlie snickered, earning a glare from his younger brother. He cleared his throat, pretending it was just a cough. Norm rolled his eyes, but pointed all of them towards the front of the car.

"Now, if you need to open a trunk, you have to pull this lever here. It will release the lock. See? Try it out."

All three boys obediently followed and tried the lever. Once Norm was satisfied that they could find it, he returned to the open trunk.

"Now, that lever pulls at _this _line here," he pointed at the bottom side of the lid.

"Why is it there?" Charlie asked, curious.

"Because some smart people had managed to lock themselves in the trunk before," Norm said, ruffling his son's head. "So the designers decided to put in this safety mechanism."

"So I just... had to pull that?" Mikey asked in awe.

"Yup," Norm replied.

"Oh," Mikey said, pulling at the line, testing. "Can I try? Can I go back and pull? Please daddy?"

Norm laughed.

"I thought you were afraid of the dark, champ."

Mike's chest puffed out, his fear forgotten.

"You will be here," he said simply. So Norm humoured him and Charlie and Ray watched as shortly after the trunk popped open and out peeked an ecstatic Mikey.

"Awesome! Can I do it again?"

"No, I wanna try next!" Ray peeped in and for the next few minutes Norm let his children play with the trunk, until he finally grew bored of it.

"Okay, that's enough. You know how to get out, now scoot. Me and Charlie need to finish cleaning the car."

With some grumbling the two boys ran away, taking up their game where they left off. Charlie had taken up a sponge and started working on the right side of the car, while his father cleaned the inside of the trunk. They were working in mutual silence, when Charlie broke it.

"Dad?"

"Hm?" Norm grunted, while keeping up the work.

"Uh... what happens if the line doesn't work?"

"Why wouldn't it work?" Norm looked at Charlie, intrigued. Charlie shrugged.

"Maybe the lock is broken. Is there another way out? How long could you breath in there? Is there air?" Charlie was an inquisitive kid, though he usually tended to keep silent. But his brothers were gone and this was a chance to talk with his dad alone. Charlie didn't want to spend the time in silence.

"Well... of course there is air. I doubt any car is really airtight and there should be enough air until you can get out. If not, you can always kick out the lights. Here, see?" he showed Charlie the inside of the trunk and where was the best place to kick.

"And if the lock doesn't work?"

"That can be a problem," Norm admitted. "But look, here..." Norm tapped at the backside of the trunk. It sounded strange. He took hold of the edge of the tarp and pulled a bit. Charlie peered at the opening.

"What's that?"

"There's only a metal skeleton in the shape of an X. It's for when you need to transport something long inside the car... you pull off this tarp and push down the back seat and you can stick a long pole or whatever you need through."

"Oh, that's cool!"

"Yes."

"So could I just crawl out of there? And can I crawl into the trunk from the inside of the car?" Charlie felt his eyes lit up with excitement. Talk about great hiding places. His father scowled at him, then sighed.

"I don't want you go hiding in the trunk, Charlie. You promised."

"I wasn't planning to," Charlie said innocently.

"Uh huh. But to your question. Yes, I think you could do that... now. In a year or two when you finally hit that growth spurt? I don't know."

"What about you, Dad?"

Norm shook his head with a laugh.

"Nah, kid. My shoulders are too broad for that."

'_Too broad,' _Charlie thought closing his eyes. The memory faded away, taking with it the little bit of calm he had.

When Charlie was twelve, he might've crawled through the construction. He was a skinny kid. He was still lean now, but he wasn't sure whether this car would offer the same opportunity. He had two options for escape and neither seemed too plausible, but admittedly, Charlie haven't even tried yet. He wasn't sure he could.

His head was getting woozier by the minute, though he had a feeling that was more due to panic and the blood loss than lack of air. Still, it was dark inside the trunk, the only source of light the two small holes above.

Charlie took in a breath, coming to a decision. He would first try to open the trunk. He saw Trevor cutting the line, but that didn't mean the mechanism couldn't work still. If Charlie remembered correctly, though that was a bit of a chance right now, Trevor didn't cut it right at the edge, rather somewhere in the middle.

Charlie reached out with a shaky hand, blindly searching for that thin cord that could be the key to his freedom. He patted the lid around the lock, for a moment not feeling anything only steel and his heart speed up, when his fingers touched something.

Here.

Charlie held his breath, willing his fingers to stop shaking. Willing the short strand of the cord to stay in his clutches, despite the blood slicking his fingers.

The cord slipped out, once... twice.

"Bloody hell!" Charlie cursed, gritting his teeth. He grasped it the third time, sinking his nails into the ridges of the material, wishing for traction. He pulled.

_Click._

The lock of the trunk released and Charlie let out a relieved sigh. His hand pushed against the lid...

It didn't move.

"What the hell?"

Charlie smacked his hand against the lid and he could swear he felt it budge a bit, but the trunk remained closed.

It was just all too much.

Charlie felt as if the walls were closing in on him. He felt a rush of heat over his skin, then cold sweat broke out as his breath grew faster and faster. He was shaking and it jarred his injuries and hurt his head, but it was nothing compared to the growing heat inside his chest.

Charlie couldn't identify that feeling at first, it was so overwhelming. But when his jaws clenched painfully and his hands curled into fists, he realized it was rage. Rage and anger at the unfairness of this situation.

Maybe he could've waited for help.

Maybe it would even come in time.

It wasn't like he was about to die in the next moment, even though it kind of felt that way.

But Charlie didn't _want _to wait.

He didn't want to lay there, helpless and crying like a child. He wasn't Mikey and he wasn't a five year old waiting for his dad to come rescue him for God's sake. He was an adult and a cop and there were two armed robbers on the run.

The rage inside him grew. The disappointment, the annoyance over his own condition. The feeling of helplessness. He wasn't a victim. He didn't need to be rescued over and over.

With all the pent up rage, Charlie let out a cry and a hard kick. The cry turned into a grunt of pain as his side felt like it was slashed open. Charlie moaned and curled up into a ball, for a few moments focusing only on one thing. Breathing.

He breathed raggedly while his hand pushed against the wound on his side. Fresh blood trickled down between his fingers and the smell just made him want to gag. His eyes were squeezed shut and maybe that was why it took him so long to notice.

The lid gave way.

There was fresh air on his face and Charlie blinked open his eyes, brushing away the wetness and squinting into the light.

He was free.

Charlie sent out a prayer of thanks, then slowly, ever so slowly pushed against the lid to get it open all the way. The trunk gave a creaking sound and stopped about midway, but Charlie didn't care. There was enough space for him to get out. Or roll out maybe.

Charlie wouldn't call his attempt at getting out anything close to graceful. He wasn't sure really how he ended up on the ground, but he cherished it for more than just few minutes. Seeing the sky above was heavenly. He didn't even mind that the few clouds above were moving swimmingly in front of his eyes. As long as there was no gun pointed at his face he felt content on just laying there.

Until the morning chill of the ground started seeping through his clothes.

Charlie shivered.

He probably shouldn't be lying around. What good was it to escape the trunk only to be found unconscious on the ground?

Feeling that that option was even worse for keeping up his image, Charlie decided he had enough rest. He needed to get up and start walking.

Now all he needed was to convince his body of that.

It was more of a struggle than he would've liked. After some effort that left him panting, Charlie managed to get himself into a sitting position. His head felt strangely light but at the same time it seemed to host the whole Sydney Symphony Orchestra.

Charlie rested with his back against the car. He took a few minutes, willed the world to stop spinning and weaving like a wild roller coaster ride. He couldn't allow himself more time however. The way he felt, he either pushed through and got on his feet, or he would just fall asleep where he sat. While the latter option seemed to be less painful, the rage inside Charlie was still simmering. Rage and worry about what Mandy and Trevor might do if they encountered some civilians.

That simple thought was enough to give him strength. Using the car, Charlie pulled himself up to a standing position. He moved a bit too fast and his sight went dark around the edges.

Charlie stumbled, grasping for support. He found the open trunk and as he leaned against it, slammed it shut.

The sound startled him a bit and Charlie opened his eyes, for a second expecting to see the two robbers aiming their guns at him, but there was nothing. Just his crashed car, an empty road and some bug crawling lazily over Charlie's arm and onto the trunk.

Charlie shook his head slightly, trying to clear it.

He was out of the trunk. He was even up on his feet, and with some effort and luck he might be able to walk. The question was... which way to go?

Back to the farm where they almost ran over the sheep? It could've been 20-25 kilometres far by now. Even more. Charlie wasn't really sure how far they got before the crash.

Or keep going the way they were headed?

Charlie might've wanted to catch those robbers, but he was no fool. He knew well enough he was in no condition to face them alone and unarmed. Not unless he wanted to give them a chance to finish him.

Where to?

He remembered Trevor saying something about a crossroad being not that far ahead... taking a left? No. Right!

Well, if there was a crossroad it meant there were some signs most likely. More roads. If those two went right... Charlie would go left. If he was lucky enough someone would drive past him and give him a ride to Bendigo.

With this plan, Charlie pushed away from the car and started his slow walk towards help.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

Blake hated crossroads.

Well, that might've been a bit of an overstatement. Usually Blake didn't have any specific feelings or thoughts about crossroads, whether real or metaphorical. But right now it was not an usual situation. Right now there was a 33.3 percent chance that he and Lawson will choose the wrong road and thus miss Charlie.

Blake had stopped the car smack in the middle of the crossroad and stepped out, Lawson doing the same. They both looked down at the dirty road beneath, trying to find any trail that would lead them to Charlie.

The evidence at the crash site had at least showed them that Charlie was most likely alone. Lawson had argued with Blake about that theory for good five minutes while they were checking the inside of the car and the surrounding area for more clues.

"We don't even know if this is Charlie's blood," Lawson pointed out and Blake nodded because Lawson was right. They didn't _know_ whose blood it was or what happened there. They _couldn't _know after all, not until they found someone able to tell them.

"But the evidence points to it," Blake said. "It's most likely Charlie was the one driving the car. That would be the most logical thing for the robbers to do, the easiest way to keep him in check."

"They could've tied him up and put him on the backseat," Lawson protested.

Blake nodded.

"Yeah. But what about the trunk and the bullet holes?"

Lawson shrugged.

"Maybe he tried to escape. Maybe he distracted the driver, they crashed and then they put him in the trunk and shot him."

"Or maybe he was driving when they crashed. But if they wanted to shoot him, why put him in the trunk? Wouldn't that be just... overkill?"

Blake tried to figure it out, tried to think over it all with a clear, logical mind. It was impossible. His voice might've sounded casual, but both he and Lawson knew Blake felt anything but calm. This was _Charlie _they were talking about. Maybe that was the only reason why Lawson even indulged him in a reply.

"I don't know, Lucien. But whatever happened, someone definitely got hurt. We can either stay here and argue about who and what, or we can try and catch up with them. If nothing else, they are on foot. Unless they hitched a ride, that is."

Blake cringed. The idea that the robbers might've been long gone and that Charlie might be lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death sent shivers down his spine.

"We best get on then," he said, nodding towards the car.

They had reached a crossroad fairly quickly, despite the slow speed of the car. Now they were trying to figure out where to go.

"If he's still with them," Lawson spoke, breaking the silence, "I doubt they were headed towards Bendigo."

"In which case we can go straight ahead towards Longlea... or turn right to McNamara. There are a few farms over there but nothing else."

"Yes, but what are the chances they would drag Charlie with them if they were on foot, with at least one seriously injured person?"

Lawson shrugged.

"They might've used Charlie to support that person," he pointed out. Blake grimaced. He wished there was some trail on the road, but the wind took care of possible footsteps. However, it did not take care of the blood, Blake noted and walked a few steps ahead, squatting down.

"What've you got?"

Blake dipped his hand in the dark spot on the dirt road and checked the texture.

"I'd say it's blood."

Lawson's eyes narrowed.

Blake stood and walked several more feet ahead. His heart sped up.

"It's heading towards Bendigo," he said with hope. "If Charlie was alone and hurt... he would have tried to get himself to help. Bendigo would've been the smartest choice."

Lawson didn't protest this time. He looked at the traces of blood on the ground with a frown, then nodded.

"Left we go then. We can cover the first five kilometres in the car pretty quick. If we don't find anything, we can still turn around and backtrack. If he was hurt I doubt he could've walked that far anyway."

At the amount of blood they found in the trunk of the car Blake doubted they would have to search more than one or two kilometres to be honest.

He was right.

They drove maybe five minutes when they saw a figure. It wasn't clear at first sight whether it was Charlie or someone else. The man was walking... or rather stumbling ahead in a drunkenly manner. But the closer they came, the clearer it was.

Blake would recognize that dark mop of hair anywhere.

"It's Charlie!" he said just as the figure turned. There was a dazed and slightly surprised look on Charlie's face, but it gave way to a smile as he recognized their car.

"You have to be kidding me," Lawson growled when Charlie had the guts to raise his left arm in the signal of a hitchhiker. "God help me, I'll kill him."

Blake highly doubted that. He pulled the car to a stop only few feet from Charlie and jumped out of it before Lawson even opened the door on his side.

"Charlie!"

"Hey, Doc," Charlie said with a lopsided grin, his figure slightly wavering. "Took your time."

Blake crossed the space between them, reaching out towards Charlie as if wanting to make sure he was real. Charlie though pulled away a bit, pulling his right arm closer to his body protectively.

"Bloody hell, Charlie," Blake muttered as he took in Charlie's state. The blood running down his forehead left a horrifying looking trail down Charlie's face, but Blake knew head wounds bled a lot and the flow had already seemed to stop.

Now he could see the entire right side of Charlie's originally blue shirt was drenched in blood as well and he could see at least one source of the bleeding right there.

"It's okay, we've got you," Blake said soothingly as he put his hand on Charlie's left shoulder. Charlie frowned a bit but didn't pull back this time.

"_I've_ got me," he protested. "I got out. I did it. Myself," he said somehow vehemently.

"That you did. And almost gave us a heart attack," Lawson spoke as he now also stood next to the boy.

Charlie looked confused.

"Boss?"

"We found the blood in the trunk... but no sign of you," Lawson explained, even as Blake was trying to check Charlie out. He laid his hand on Charlie's face, looking at his eyes.

"I couldn't... couldn't wait around," Charlie said a bit morosely, grunting as Blake ran his hands over his skull, checking for fractures.

"Hold still," Blake said, satisfied when all he found was the cut and bump on Charlie's forehead. His pupils seemed sluggish, but they were both the same size. The dazed look might as well have been from the blood loss as from a concussion.

"Can you tell us what happened, Charlie? And where are those two robbers?" Lawson asked, still looking concerned but at the same time impatient to catch the bastards.

Charlie gave a nod, then hissed when Blake started checking his arm.

"Why don't you sit down first?" Not waiting for a reply, Blake took hold of Charlie's uninjured arm and led him towards the backseat of the car. Once Charlie was sitting, Blake grabbed his medical bag from behind him and started pulling out bandages.

"I need to stop the bleeding first," he explained at Charlie's curious look. "Why don't you start with how you got into this mess?" Blake offered, at the moment more as a distraction from his ministrations than outright curiosity. He still listened with rapt attention as Charlie slowly and a bit uncertainly described the events of the night, with Lawson jumping in and giving pointed questions.

"So you were driving all along? Why did you crash the car? Was that your plan at escaping?"

"No," Charlie protested then hissed and closed his eyes for a moment, as Blake had just peeled up his shirt, the dried blood sticking the shirt to his side painfully.

"Sorry," Blake muttered but didn't give him much time to relax as after a bit more prodding he pushed a thick gauze pad against the wound. Charlie went just a shade whiter and Blake felt bad for him. "It's okay, just breathe. I know it hurts, but I need to stop the bleeding," Blake spoke in a hushed tone. He kept a steady pressure on the gauze for a minute with one hand, while he rubbed Charlie's good shoulder with the other, trying to distract him from the pain.

Charlie grimaced, his hands clutching at the edge of the seat. He looked about done in and Blake wished he could offer something for the pain, but with the possible concussion he was wary to give Charlie anything. While he bandaged Charlie's side, Blake was thinking whether to take Charlie back to Ballarat or stop at the Bendigo hospital, as it was closer.

"Do you have any spare shirt in the car, Matthew?" Blake asked when he finished patching Charlie up. He was satisfied that he shouldn't bleed out on them, but seeing the slight shaking made him worried about possible shock. He didn't want to put the bloodied shirt back on Charlie unless it was necessary however.

"Might not be the best fit, but here," Lawson pulled out a shirt from the trunk of the car. Blake helped Charlie put it on and tried not to smile as he saw the shorter sleeves while the rest of the shirt was loose. Lawson sent him a warning glare stopping him from commenting, while Charlie seemed to be oblivious.

"Can you handle the drive back to Ballarat or would you prefer Bendigo?" Blake asked, leaving the decision up to Charlie after all.

Charlie frowned.

"What?"

"Ballarat or Bendigo hospital," Blake specified, feeling a bit of concern at Charlie's apparent confusion. Especially when Charlie vehemently shook his head, pausing only to look at Lawson with wide eyes.

"No... no hospital. Boss, did you catch them?"

Lawson shook his head.

"There are few coppers from Bendigo driving around, looking for them, but so far no luck. We were hoping you can shed a bit of light on where they were heading. Or who the hell they even are."

Charlie grimaced.

"We need to... we need to turn the car. Head down that other road."

"Are you sure?"

Charlie nodded then winced, instantly regretting the motion.

"They wanted to go right at the crossroad, before Hopper jumped in. That's why I went left. Didn't... didn't want to run into them."

"Hopper?" Lawson mouthed, seemingly confused.

"Kangaroo," Blake explained, having heard the word from Charlie before. "Why would they head there?"

"I think... I think they had a car there or something. Trevor let it slip and she... she went mad."

Lawson and Blake exchanged a look, while Charlie's shaking seemed to get a bit worse. Blake wasn't sure if it was from the blood loss, pain or impatience.

"We need to go after them!" Charlie said and Blake got his answer.

"_We _are not chasing after armed robbers with you still bleeding all over the place," Blake said vehemently, to which he received an uncharacteristic glare from Charlie himself.

"You patched me up, Doc. We need to _go!_"

Blake shook his head.

Under different circumstances, if it was just him and Lawson, he would have no complaints. They were both armed and according to Charlie, there was a big chance that at least one of the robbers was hurt, which might give them a bit of an advantage. But there was no telling what situation might arise and the last thing Blake wanted was to put Charlie in more danger.

"The only place you are headed to is a hospital," Blake said sternly.

Charlie gave him an infuriated look, which just made Blake more convinced that he suffered a concussion and shouldn't be running around catching criminals. He rarely if ever saw Charlie angry.

"I'm _fine!_" Charlie said and as if wanting to prove it, pushed Blake's hand which was checking the wound on his head away angrily. The movement obviously caused him pain, but Charlie didn't let out a sound, just gritted his teeth. Blake would have admired the tenacity if it wasn't being used against him.

Blake understood the drive, he really did. He was of half mind to jump in the car and find those two to dish out his payback for harming Charlie. But they had just one car and even though Blake worked for the police, he was first and foremost a doctor. He was supposed to take care of his patients, not let them endanger themselves even more.

Charlie must've seen the resolve on his face, because instead of continue to plead and argue with Blake, he turned towards Lawson.

"Boss!"

Lawson didn't look happy. In fact, he looked downright annoyed, but if Blake expected him to shoot Charlie down and tell him to shut up and listen to his elders, he was strongly disappointed.

"Do you have any idea where _exactly _they were heading?"

"I don't... I don't know, but... Trevor said it's about fifteen minutes from the crossroad."

Lawson nodded, reaching for the radio.

They had ended the radio silence as soon as they discovered Charlie's car and the broken radio, so it was no problem for Lawson to call in reinforcements. He patched into Bendigo's channel and requested a few cars be sent out to McNamara road and to be on the safe side also two cars heading over from Longlea. He also asked for an ambulance to be on standby and ready to head out to McNamara at moment's notice. Charlie rolled his eyes at the latter, while Blake just felt the frown on his face deepen. Once Lawson finished the call, he settled in the driver's seat and turned back towards Blake.

"Get in, Lucien. We need to move."

"You can't be serious, Matthew," Blake protested, not moving.

"Doc, please," Charlie said, his tone turning almost begging. Blake looked him in the eyes. He saw it. The need to see things through. The need to not be whisked away like a victim. He understood it, better than some. He was in a war after all. He was a POV... and there was nothing more important than to walk out of that blasted camp on his own two feet.

But this was different.

"You don't have to prove anything, Charlie," he said and Charlie blinked, taken aback by the words. He seemed to think about it for a second, then shook his head.

"Maybe. But I _want _to."

Blake sighed.

Lawson impatiently rapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Sit your ass down, Lucien. The sooner we finish this, the sooner you can play doctor."

Blake shot Lawson a glare, then slammed the front passenger door shut. He ushered a surprised Charlie to scoot over to the other side of the back seat, then settled down next to him before closing the door as well.

Lawson gave a satisfied grunt and turned on the engine.

"For the record, I still think this is a bloody stupid idea," Blake grumbled, even as he slightly angrily took hold of Charlie's wrist to check his pulse.

Charlie looked like he wanted to protest, but shut his mouth. After all, he won this round.

On the front seat, Lawson snorted.

"To have a penny every time I wanted to tell that to _you,_ Lucien... I wouldn't need to work for the rest of my life."

Charlie coughed, looking out the window.

Blake still saw the smirk on his face. Well, Blake could ignore it... for the moment. When this all was over, he might just forget when was the last time Charlie got his tetanus shot. As for Matthew... he had a feeling he would have plenty of opportunity to say 'I told you so'.

* * *

Charlie was thirsty.

He was thirsty ever since he started walking down the road, but then his mind was occupied with other things. Like... what if he was going the wrong way? What if the first car passing him by will have Mandy behind the driving wheel? Would he need to jump out of the way?

When he heard the car behind him, his heart froze. He truly wondered if he should dive into the nearest bush in an attempt to hide. But he fought down that instinct. It made no sense for Mandy and Trevor to head this way, at least not in Charlie's mind. However, he also had to admit he didn't have a slightest clue what was going on in Ballarat. Did Lawson know what happened? Did they know just _who _they were dealing with? Charlie doubted that. Just as he doubted that trying to hide at this moment would be successful. So instead he turned around to see who was coming.

The relief upon seeing the familiar blue of the police car... with Blake and Lawson in the front seat, was almost overwhelming. He couldn't help it, he felt so giddy he raised an arm in an attempt to flag down a ride.

There was no need of course.

Charlie let the concern of both men rush over him soothingly, soaking it up for a precious while. He would have liked nothing better than to let Blake care of all his hurts and get some rest.

But Lawson asked what happened and Charlie was reminded that he was very much still on duty. If not on the clock, at least in spirit. He let two armed robbers escape. For better or worse, it was his duty to try and help in their apprehending.

When Blake mentioned the hospital, Charlie felt as if he had swallowed a brick. No way was he giving up. He tried arguing, he tried pleading with Blake. When it didn't work, Charlie decided to grasp at the straw. He turned to Lawson.

To his utter surprise the man indeed listened.

Which brought him back to the fact he was thirsty.

The tension inside the car could've been cut with a knife. Blake was shooting angry glares at the back of Lawson's head, only occasionally glancing at Charlie with a mix of exasperation and concern.

Charlie could live with that.

What he was finding harder to live with was his mouth feeling like the parched Sahara desert. Or the way his head ached. Charlie wondered for a moment if he didn't stop bleeding simply because all the moisture evaporated from his bloodstream. It sure felt like he had sand in his veins instead of blood.

He ran his tongue across his dry lips for maybe the fifth time in as many minutes. This time though it caught Blake's attention.

"You okay there, Charlie?" the man asked with a frown and Charlie willed down a sigh of annoyance. He wasn't angry at Blake, far from it. But for some reason his concern was irritating him right now. Well... he should be fair. _Everything _was irritating him.

"Just thirsty," Charlie muttered.

"Right. Should have thought about it," Blake said, as if scolding himself. "Do we have any water in here, Matthew?"

Lawson glanced into the rear-view mirror and Charlie could've sworn there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Charlie swallowed down a groan, willing the back seat to swallow him whole.

"There's a water canteen in the trunk. Probably warm as piss, but better than nothing I suppose," Lawson said and pulled the car over. Blake quickly grabbed the water and was back before Charlie could really protest the impromptu stop.

He didn't meet the Doc's eyes as he was handed the canteen, but he did utter a low thanks.

Lawson was right.

It was warm like piss and tasted almost as bad.

But it felt heavenly going down Charlie's throat.

He managed to chug down several large gulps before Blake pulled the water away with admonishment.

"Slow down!"

Charlie frowned, but gave a nod. He took the next few sips much more carefully, aware that Blake was too close and too willing to take the water away.

In the end it was his own stomach that gave a warning churn and Charlie handed the half empty canteen back to the Doc.

"Shouldn't we have seen something already?" Blake asked several minutes into the drive just as Charlie wondered about the same. While Lawson wasn't driving that fast... he most likely didn't want to run into a situation heedlessly or miss something because he was too impatient, Charlie thought that they would have caught up with Mandy and Trevor by now. Or that they would at least see some houses.

As far as Charlie saw, there was nothing but dry land and some trees in the distance. Though that didn't mean much, seeing as Charlie's vision was occasionally becoming slightly blurry and unfocused. He wanted to rub at his eyes but worried that Blake would notice and then start once again questioning the saneness of their decision. Because Charlie had spotted the crack in Lawson's resolve just a few minutes prior, he wasn't about to risk it. So he just turned his head towards the window and blinked several times, hoping to clear his vision.

It didn't help.

But the radio crackled to life and all three jumped, startled.

"This is Reiner. We're at old Joel's house. Spotted two suspects. We are under fire! I repeat, we are under fire! Requesting back-up!"

There was the sound of shots in the background before the radio went dead. Only a second later they could hear someone from the Bendigo station trying to reach Reiner, unsuccessfully. Lawson grabbed the radio and asked what was the location of old Joel's house.

When he was told it was on McNamara road, only few kilometres from their current location, he pressed down on the gas. Charlie curled his good arm around his waist, trying to minimize the discomfort caused by the rattling of the car. Blake gave him a concerned look, but it was clear he was distraught by the shots fired.

They reached the house sooner than Charlie could put himself together enough to convince Lawson he was able to help. So when they saw the other car, with one cop hunkered down behind it and another lying motionless on the porch of the house, Lawson's first words to Charlie were: "Stay here and call the ambulance."

With that, he parked the car at a safe distance, and looked at Blake.

"You coming with me?"

Blake nodded, casting a glance at Charlie.

"Boss, I want to come too," Charlie protested, but this time Lawson didn't budge.

"I believe I gave you an order, Sergeant," he said firmly. "Keep the others posted about the situation. Am I clear?"

There was no sense in arguing. Only thing it would achieve would be to take up time that the other cops didn't have.

"Yes, Boss," Charlie said begrudgingly and got out of the car, only to settle back down on the driver's seat and pick up the radio.

Lawson and Blake were already running over to the other car, keeping low to the ground and making sure they had some coverage. The shots were growing more sporadic from both sides and Charlie assumed it was because Trevor was trying to save some ammunition. But there was no telling if they didn't have a gun or two at the house. Or if there wasn't a third party inside... an innocent bystander.

Charlie rattled of the request for an ambulance and grimaced when he was told that the nearest back up was about ten minutes out.

Ten minutes was a hell of a lot of time.

He put down the radio and leaned over the steering wheel, to have a better look at the situation. He saw that Blake and Lawson had reached the cop by the car, who was occasionally firing off a shot at the window next to the door. Squinting, Charlie could discern movement of the window drapes, even though he couldn't see a figure or the gun. But the sound of shots was clear.

Still, it was just one gun firing... even though Charlie knew that Mandy and Trevor had at least two guns between them. Who was pulling the trigger? And where was the other person?

Those were the questions going through Charlie's mind even as he watched Lawson start the other car. He put it into neutral and started pushing it towards the porch, using it as a shield. Their priority was clear... they needed to get Blake to the injured cop. Or to get the cop into safety, without getting shot themselves.

Charlie gritted his teeth.

He should have been the one covering Lawson or Blake. He should be going around the back and trying to find a way inside the house... instead of sitting on his ass like an invalid and watching the drama unfold.

He wished to go and join the fray, but Lawson made himself clear. Charlie was to stay and do nothing. Because at the moment he was more of a distraction than help.

Charlie understood that, even though he didn't like it one bit. But he had to admit that with his vision being blurry and his aim unsteady, he wouldn't be of much help to anyone.

Speaking about blurry vision... Charlie rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear them. His head was throbbing still, though it seemed to be a bit better after the water he drank. He wished to grab the canteen and finish it off, but it was on the back seat and despite his thirst, Charlie didn't want to relinquish his position. He needed to see what was going on.

Blake had managed to rush towards the injured cop, but several shots fired in his direction made it clear he wasn't going to make it back that easily. So instead of risking taking a bullet, Blake grabbed the cop and pulled the limp body towards the side of the porch the farthest from the window. Safe at least for a moment, he started tending to the injured cop. At least Charlie hoped the man was only injured and not dead... but seeing Blake putting pressure on a leg wound instead of starting CPR was encouraging.

Lawson and the other cop were hunkered down by the car, obviously annoyed by the current situation, but unable to change it. For now, the only thing they could do was to keep shooting at the house, providing enough of a distraction for the shooter that Blake could be safe.

Charlie once again cursed his luck. He looked at his watch. At least seven more minutes till the backup arrived.

Charlie blinked.

It didn't seem right. Was it really only three minutes since the radio call?

Time seemed to be going much slower.

How much ammunition did Trevor have?

Or a better question... how many bullets were remaining in Lawson's gun? And did he have enough to last for the next seven minutes?

Charlie doubted it.

He wondered if maybe he could provide another distraction at least.

If Trevor had to divide his attention between two cars... maybe Mandy would also join in. If both of them were still inside the house. Charlie had a sinking feeling that the occasional shots fired out of the house served as much of a distraction for them as the police cruiser. At no point could he hear two guns at the same time, or from different positions.

Charlie was about to start the car and drive it towards the house from the farther side, if nothing else than to prove his theory of one shooter. But he didn't even turn the key when he spotted movement to the side.

Charlie blinked and froze.

Was it just his eyes playing with him? Or was it really a shadow lurking away from the house?

Charlie squinted and waited.

There.

It was definitely a movement. Someone had left the house and was trying to get to the nearby barn. That someone was limping heavily, clad in dark clothing.

Charlie's eyes narrowed.

His hand twitched, ready to blast the horn and warn Lawson about the escape. But one look towards Lawson told Charlie the man was in no position to do anything. Well, maybe he could have used the car and retreated from the house, then drove towards the barn, but that would leave Blake and the cop unprotected. And the moment the person inside the house - Trevor, it must've been him - realized the cops were changing tactics, he might change his tactic as well.

Not to mention that it would definitely warn Mandy about being noticed.

Charlie was pretty sure Mandy was armed and she wouldn't hesitate to kill.

He didn't see any other option.

The barn could've been hiding a getaway car or more guns and ammunition. Hell, even if it had been only just a place for Mandy to hide, Charlie wasn't about to allow it.

There was an uncomfortable churning in his stomach at the mere thought of that woman escaping. She was dangerous. She was _deranged_.

Charlie had to stop her.

Coming to a decision, Charlie slipped out of the car. He didn't honk the horn, though he did try to catch Lawson's attention. But the man was too occupied and Charlie didn't want to lose time. He also instinctively knew that Lawson would most likely try to stop him somehow.

Oh well.

Better ask for forgiveness than permission.

Charlie leaned over, already hunched like an old man as he was protectively cradling his injured side. He didn't want to get anyone's attention at this point... especially because he was unarmed.

He knew that he was being reckless. But he would rather be called an idiot by a pissed of Lawson than think himself a coward who let a killer escape. Because he was sure it was Mandy who shot and killed the owner of the jewellery store, as Blake told him.

Charlie was keeping low to the ground, trying to use trees and the bushes as a cover. At least Mandy seemed to have vanished at the back of the barn. If Charlie couldn't see her, it was likely she couldn't see him either.

Charlie caught a curse and turned his head towards Lawson. The man was glaring at him from behind the car he was using as a shield and making clear gestures for Charlie to get his ass back to the car.

Charlie paused, then shook his head. He pointed towards the barn, signalling that there was someone over there.

Lawson gave him an exasperated look when he caught on, then shook his own head.

Charlie interpreted the motion as 'No fucking way! Come back this instant!'

He decided his interpretation was incorrect, so he turned and continued in his advance towards the barn.

He was hoping this attempt at capturing Mandy would be either successful or she would manage to finish what she started, because Charlie was pretty sure if not her then Lawson would kill him.

Charlie finally reached the wooden building. It wasn't large enough to be a barn, Charlie didn't hear or smell any animals nearby, but it was definitely large enough to provide cover to a car or a smaller tractor. There was a big front door, though it had a sturdy looking padlock on it. Charlie wasn't sure what Mandy wanted to do. He heard some noise from the inside... things being moved around. But no sound of a car engine.

Charlie slowly walked the perimeter of the barn, trying to find the way Mandy got inside, because it definitely wasn't through the front. He walked past one window, but it was boarded up. He still leaned in and tried to catch some movement through a small cranny between the boards.

It was too dark to see anything, but he did hear a string of curses that didn't leave anyone in doubt that the person inside was angry. Something didn't work out according to the plan, and Charlie couldn't help but feel glad about it. Even though a pissed off Mandy felt like a dangerous opponent, a crack in her plans might've just given Charlie the opportunity he needed.

He stood there motionless for a minute longer, listening as Mandy apparently tried to start an engine on a car, but all she was getting were spluttering noises. There was the sound of the car door being slammed shut, followed by an infuriated growl. Charlie pushed himself away from the wall of the barn he didn't even realize he was leaning on and kept walking.

There had to be another window or a back door...

If the car didn't start, Mandy would most likely return to the house... or try to run off another way. At least that was what Charlie was hoping for. If she decided to hunker down in the barn, with her gun pointed towards the entrance and shooting at the first person stepping in, Charlie would be screwed. He wasn't going inside unless he had to.

As he was going through his options, he turned a corner and finally saw the door. It was closed, which was good, because otherwise Mandy could've seen his approach. Right now Charlie needed to get behind that door, wait for it to open and then surprise Mandy from the back. It seemed a bit cowardly but there was not much else he could do unarmed. He needed the element of surprise.

Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough.

He was maybe two meters from his goal when the door suddenly opened.

Mandy stepped out, right in front of Charlie. They collided, both letting out a gasp of pain, both wavering.

Charlie was the first to catch his balance.

He saw the gun in her hand that was already coming up to point at his chest. He reacted instinctively. His left arm slammed against Mandy's wrist, smashing it against the wall of the barn.

She let out a yelp and the gun fell from her grasp, onto the ground. Charlie tried to grab her other hand as well and turn her, so she would be facing the barn and he could at least use the size of his own body to restrain her somehow. But he didn't count on her hurt leg and his own injuries.

She stepped away, her bad leg giving way enough that Charlie missed her arm. Trying to keep her balance as well as free her other hand still pushed against the wall, she slammed her free elbow directly into Charlie's injured side.

For a second, everything turned bright white. Charlie wasn't aware of any sound he might've made. Nothing existed, only the pain. Pulsating. Stabbing through him sharply.

Charlie tried to breathe.

The pain seemed to focus on one place and as he realized that, he became aware of his body.

It felt like minutes but it was only a second or two at most.

Must've been.

Charlie felt himself sinking down to his knees, the landing jarring his aching head. There was someone in front of him. A woman. Crazy and dangerous... leaning over, trying to pick up something from the ground.

Charlie blinked as his eyes focused on the gun.

No way.

The pains and aches of his body forgotten, Charlie lunged forward.

Mandy saw his movement but couldn't do anything about it. The gun was her priority. They collided for the second time.

But this time, there was purpose in Charlie's lunge. While Mandy couldn't have known elbowing him was the most hurtful thing to do, Charlie had enough time to note her limp and remember she had injured her knee. So he put his whole weight behind the lunge, aiming at her other leg, hitting her right in the ankle.

He heard something snap and there was an ear splitting scream as they both landed on the ground.

Charlie grunted and rolled away, quickly grabbing for the gun.

Mandy didn't try to go for it again. She couldn't.

Both her hands were clutching at her leg as she was writhing on the ground, screaming and cursing him down to his third cousin. Spitting out how she should've killed him right on the spot.

Charlie ignored her. He had the gun and she wasn't going anywhere on those legs. Still, he scooted a bit away, putting some distance between them. Then he struggled up onto his knees.

The world turned just a bit darker around the edges, but it cleared up after a minute. All he needed to do was breathe and let his body adjust.

A familiar sound caught his ears and Charlie felt suddenly giddy with relief.

It was a siren.

Not one, but several.

The reinforcements were coming.

He just had to get up and wait for someone to appear. He hoped Blake and Lawson were alright. He haven't heard the sound of shooting for a minute or two now.

Worry gnawed at his stomach, but he pushed it back. No shooting was good. Any moment now, someone would appear. And it better be a cop in a uniform.

Charlie took in a breath and pushed himself up to his feet. He wasn't about to meet a fellow cop down on his knees if he didn't have to... and even less so if the person coming was Trevor.

Charlie realized the lack of shooting could've meant he snuck out the same way as Mandy. He shouldn't be letting his guard down then. Charlie leaned his back against the barn wall for support as well as cover, while he checked the gun. It still had three bullets left in it. That should provide some protection.

The next few minutes seemed to take forever. There was noise. There were shouts of warning, voices announcing the presence of police. Then there was a sound Charlie welcomed the most.

"Charlie?" Lawson rounded the corner, his gun drawn. Charlie's hand with the gun went up on instinct as well, but it quickly fell back down upon the relief.

"Boss," Charlie said, then smiled, seeing that Lawson didn't have a scratch on him.

"It's clear! We got the second suspect!" Lawson bellowed even as he was leaning down, pulling out a pair of handcuffs from his uniform. Mandy was still writhing on the ground, but now her curses turned into pained pleads and wails.

"My leg! Please! I need help! I was kidnapped and-"

"Save it, your friend over there is already singing like a bird."

She kept protesting, but then two cops rushed over with guns drawn and she thankfully shut up.

Charlie was getting fed up by all the noise. It was just making his headache worse.

"She will need an ambulance. I think I broke her ankle," Charlie said as Lawson approached him.

"You heard him, one of you go back and radio in we need another ambulance," Lawson said, then turned back to Charlie and gave him a once over. "Make it two!" he called out after the retreating cop.

Charlie blinked.

"I'm fine, Boss," he said, although he was starting to feel the weariness of the whole day taking its effect. His arms were shaking and his legs felt heavy. He was grateful for the wall and its support.

"Give me that before you put a bullet in your foot," Lawson grumbled in a low voice and reached for the gun dangling from Charlie's hand.

Charlie looked down a bit confused, but released his grip on the gun willingly. Things were getting a bit fuzzy around the edges now that the adrenaline rush was starting to fade, but he hoped he could stay functioning at least until they returned to Ballarat. Or he made it to the car at least, Charlie amended as he took a step towards Lawson and felt something warm trickle down his side.

He hoped it was just sweat, but knew better. Still, Lawson didn't seem to be freaking out, so he most likely wasn't covered in blood. Charlie didn't dare to look in any case. There was just something about seeing yourself bleeding... it always hurt much worse once your eyes and brain caught up with the extent of the injuries.

"Where is Blake?" he asked, acutely aware that Lawson had came to his help alone.

"He's okay, tending to the other cop that was shot," Lawson said dismissively. Charlie nodded, relieved. He still needed to see for himself though and getting closer to their car also wasn't a bad idea. "We should... get back?"

"Yes, we should," Lawson agreed and as Charlie took several wobbly steps, he grabbed at his arm. Charlie startled at the touch. "Come on. You look about ready to topple over and I don't want Blake telling me 'I told you so'."

Charlie wasn't sure if he should be offended, amused or topple over in front of Blake, just so he could give that comeback to Lawson. In the end, he just grumbled another "I'm fine, Boss," and let himself be steered towards the house. "But I think... I think we need a code word."

Lawson grunted his assent, taking over just a bit more of Charlie's weight.

"Or maybe we can keep Chief? It... it seems to have worked," Charlie kept on blabbering. He wasn't even sure why. He felt lightheaded and a bit tipsy, and when Charlie was tipsy, he liked to talk. At least Lawson didn't seem to mind too much.

They had passed Mandy, who was still lying on the ground, arms handcuffed in front of her, one knee already swollen, the other foot lying limp in an uncomfortable looking position. A cop was keeping her under gunpoint. She had no way to run. She knew it. Charlie knew it as well and that was the only reason he wasn't afraid to turn his back on her hate filled gaze. If looks could kill... well, Charlie would have been dead hours ago.

He was surprised by the number of police cars in front of the house. He counted four... and one ambulance. There was Blake, standing by the stretcher with the hurt cop. His hands were red with blood and Charlie's heart skipped a beat until his brain caught up and he realized it wasn't Blake's blood.

As if sensing his presence, Blake looked up from the stretcher and their eyes met. There was a moment of tension, then a smile of relief settled on the doctor's face. He gave a swift nod towards the ambulance crew, patted the injured cop on the arm then excused himself.

Charlie looked around and saw Trevor sitting inside one of the police cars. He was alive.

Charlie was almost glad. He knew the guy was an asshole. He remembered well enough it was Trevor who locked him in the trunk... but he was also pretty sure it wasn't him who pulled the trigger. And with Trevor alive, and most likely talking, there was no way Mandy was getting out of this.

"Charlie! What on earth were you doing? I thought you stayed in the car!" Blake was standing right in front of him and Charlie blinked, dazed. Did Blake run towards him? Or did he zone out?

"I... I saw her. Heading to the barn," Charlie said and cringed. His mouth felt weird. It was as if it took a longer time to create the sentence than it should. Or maybe just time worked different when one was so tired.

Charlie felt a warm palm touch his cheek and he blinked. Blake was standing only a few inches from him, deep concern etching his face.

"Are you alright, Charlie? You're a bit cold to touch," Blake noted and Charlie nodded. Yes, he did feel cold. Actually, he was shaking.

"Think I... need to sit down, Doc," Charlie said just as Blake tugged at the hem of his shirt. Charlie winced as even that small motion made his side twitch.

Lawson cursed and Blake's grimace deepened as he touched the bandaged wound.

"Doc?" Charlie asked and looked down. The bandage was soaked through with fresh blood. Just seeing all the red made Charlie's head woozier. He took a step back.

"Whoa," Blake said, grabbing his arms and leading him to sit down on the steps of the porch, before Charlie's legs could buckle.

Charlie swallowed down the feeling of nausea. Blake ushered him to lean over and rest his head on his knees, while he had a relentless grip on his wrist.

"We need another stretcher here!" Blake called out and his voice sounded so loud Charlie felt like jumping out of his skin.

"Another ambulance is on the way," Lawson assured him calmly.

Charlie appreciated that. Though he wasn't sure why couldn't they just help him into the car where he could perhaps lie down for a few minutes and rest. They could even turn on the heating so he wouldn't feel so chilled...

As if reading his mind, there was something soft and warm wrapped over his shoulders. Charlie lifted his head to look. His eyes caught sight of a blanket, but the movement cost him.

"Charlie?" Blake was there, staring at him, still holding his wrist as if it was about to take of running. The thought amused him, so he chuckled.

"What's so bloody funny, Davis?" Lawson growled and Charlie turned his head to see his boss watching him from the other side of the stairs.

Charlie couldn't have explained even if he had a chance to answer. He didn't. Lawson's face had suddenly tripled, which was as much funny as scary. Charlie's head swivelled to make sure there was still just one Blake, because he honestly couldn't deal with more. Fortunately he didn't have to face a three headed Blake. The world kept getting blurrier and then everything moved and Charlie felt as if the earth itself had opened up to swallow him. He was falling.

Two pairs of hands reached out to him and he was gently laid down on the ground. He heard Lawson curse, just as he heard Blake say the dreaded words.

"I told you this was a stupid idea, Matthew!"

Charlie was a bit disappointed that his eyes refused to open. He would have given anything to see Lawson's face at the moment.

Right now he had to make do with the annoyed grunt.

Someone had once again covered him with the blanket and there was a hand resting on his leg, offering silent reassurance. In the distance, Charlie heard the siren of an ambulance interrupted by the occasional wailing and cursing coming from the barn. Blake was trying to get Charlie to open his eyes, but when all was said and done, Charlie was just happy to have this day over.


	7. Chapter 7

**EPILOGUE**

Charlie thought his plight was finally over and he could just sleep through the next day. But he wasn't so lucky.

He remembered waking up during the ambulance ride, but his vision was swimming and he had to keep his eyes closed. Which resulted in him falling back asleep. Second time he woke up to pain. He was on a bed and a masked figure had been poking at his side, cleaning the wound. Charlie in his confusion tried to get up, for a moment thinking it was Mandy digging the gun into his side once again, but he didn't make it more than a few centimetres. His vision turned grey and he fell back on the bed, lightheaded and panting. A woman in a nurse uniform stood by his left side, her hands pushing him back down, while the man on his right side paused his ministrations.

"Stay still, Sergeant. We need to clean this wound and close it up."

"What... what's going on?" Charlie asked, confused. His mouth was dry and the words came out garbled but the man seemed to understand.

"You were brought in a short while ago, Sergeant. We are trying to patch you up and replace some of the blood you lost. Will you hold still or do we need to restrain you?" The question was asked casually and Charlie blinked, unsure if he heard right.

"What?"

Where the hell was Blake when he needed him?

"Will you keep still, Sergeant? I do have other patients to attend to as well." The doctor sounded as if he would have preferred to be tending to any of those other patients and Charlie couldn't understand why. The face behind the mask wasn't familiar, nor the voice. But there was just something irksome about the man.

Charlie swallowed and nodded. He didn't like the guy trying to guilt him into being still. He liked him even less after he resumed the work on Charlie's side. His touch was far from gentle and Charlie couldn't help the pained hiss that escaped him.

"Where..." Charlie swallowed, gritting his teeth as his side felt on fire.

_What the hell was the guy doing to him? _

Charlie raised his head to take a look and instantly regretted it. All he saw was the long gaping gash on his side, dried blood around.

"There's a lot of debris in there," the doctor muttered casually as he dug the tweezers into the wound and pulled out what Charlie assumed was a fabric of his own shirt. The sight made him queasy and he turned his face away, towards the nurse. She gave him an apologetic smile and squeezed his hand in silent support.

"Blake?" Charlie asked, hoping she would at least understand and answer his question. She did.

"Dr. Blake was called away to consult another case," she explained softly, ignoring the glare she got from the man trying to dig a hole in Charlie's side. "He should be back shortly."

Charlie gave another nod, trying for a small smile but failing miserably. Damn, but that doc seemed to be a butcher. Charlie hoped wherever Blake went he would return soon. Last thing he wanted was to become the guinea pig for this guy and his stitching skills. The man obviously had some problem with cops... or with Blake. If the rough treatment was anything to go by at least.

The cleaning of the wound took several more minutes, though Charlie felt as if it was much longer. Few times he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from asking for pain relief. He wasn't sure why he wasn't getting any, but he had a feeling the throbbing in his skull might've been the culprit. He had a vague recollection of an accident as a child when he fell off his bike and broke an arm while also getting a concussion. It took hell of a long time to get any painkillers because of the head injury. Still, when Charlie had to bite down on his lip so hard he tasted blood, he seriously considered giving the doc his own medicine. But even though he curled his left hand into a fist, he knew that was about all the harm he was capable of doing at this moment.

Things were once again becoming hazy and he closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep. At least that way he wouldn't have to deal with the discomfort.

He was already zoning out when he heard the door opening and a familiar voice call his name. Charlie turned his head towards the sound but he didn't open his eyes. It felt like too much effort.

"Did he wake up at all?" Blake asked and there was clear worry in his tone.

"He did and we almost had to restrain him," the other doctor complained. Charlie felt his heart rate rising at the false accusation.

"What on earth for?" Blake asked, stunned. Charlie could feel a warm hand gently pat his cheek. "Charlie? Can you hear me?"

"He was being combative," the doctor said, as if trying to cover his ass.

"He looks pretty docile right now," Blake remarked and Charlie heard the sudden coldness in his voice. Blake was definitely not amused. Good. Charlie was about fed up with people who enjoyed hurting others.

At Blake's prompting, Charlie finally managed to open his eyes.

"Hey there," Blake said with a smile. "Can you stay awake for a while?"

Charlie grimaced. That wasn't exactly his top priority. While he would like to know what exactly happened and whether he was going to be alright, he could wait for the answers if it meant he could rest without pain.

"Wanna sleep. It hurts," he grunted, hoping Blake would understand.

"What hurts?"

"Side," Charlie muttered and flinched when he felt a touch on the sensitive skin.

"It's okay, it's just me. Sorry Charlie." Blake said soothingly while inspecting the wound.

"A word, Dr. Owens?" he said and this time his voice was cold like steel. Charlie heard some shuffling of feet and sputtering. He put in the effort and opened his eyes once again.

Blake stood in the corner of the room with the young looking doctor practically pushed against the wall. Their voices were low, but Charlie managed to catch some words. Like 'local anaesthesia' or 'why the hell didn't you wait until it kicked in?'

Well, that might've explained the pain.

"I'm sorry, sergeant. Doctor Owens is a bit of a hot head. Especially where Dr. Blake is concerned," the nurse spoke and it was clear she wasn't a fan of the man. Most likely though there was someone backing him up and she didn't really have a say in that. But Blake sure as hell would, if the angry gestures and raised voice was anything to go by.

Charlie would've felt thankful for the intervention, but at the moment he was too tired to care. So he just sighed and closed his eyes.

The door slammed shut and Charlie heard feet approaching his bed. He really hoped it was Blake and not Dr. Owens.

"It's alright Charlie, I'm here," Blake said and Charlie felt profound relief. "We'll fix you right up."

* * *

Charlie returned home the following day. He was in discomfort, his head ached and he felt every movement pulling at his stitches, but he was happy to be home. It was a bit unfortunate though that he was still too tired.

When he complained about that, Blake just shrugged.

"Blood loss. Takes time to get your energy back. Get some sleep," Blake ushered him to bed.

Charlie begrudgingly did.

He arrived a bit before lunch but slept through it. No one had the heart to wake him, so Charlie missed what was sure to be an awesome lunch, seeing as it was Jean's cooking and not some hospital grub. Charlie still couldn't get the horrible taste of the breakfast from his mouth.

While he was a bit grumpy about waking up in the late afternoon, he was welcomed with the smell of pecan pie and some meat still cooking in the oven. His mood was also lifted by seeing Rose helping Jean set the kitchen table for what appeared to be dinner.

For a moment Charlie just stood in the doorway, watching the scene, unnoticed by anyone. He could see Blake and Lawson sitting on the couch, discussing something in the newspaper. Charlie very well remembered the moment in the trunk when he thought he would never see them again. Being there, mostly in one piece, felt like a miracle. He inhaled the smells from the kitchen and his stomach gave a loud growl.

Rose and Jean both heard it and finally noticed his presence. Charlie blushed in embarrassment, but before he could come up with a good excuse - well, he hasn't eaten proper food for almost two days - Rose had wrapped her arms around him.

She gave him a hug, although more gentle than Charlie anticipated, then pulled back and gave him a once over. Charlie opened his mouth.

"Ouch!" he protested as Rose slapped him on the arm in mock anger. Fortunately it was his good arm and she knew it, because she rolled her eyes.

"Don't 'ouch!' at me. That's what you get for running after some crazy maniacs after being shot!"

"That's not what happened," Charlie protested.

"Oh, really? Pray tell, what happened then?" she asked, arms crossed over her chest, an expectant look on her face.

Charlie opened his mouth then shut it. He looked around, searching for some help, but getting none. Jean was setting the table, a small grin on her face . In the living room Blake cleared his throat, but kept his face buried in the newspaper, while Lawson looked absolutely unbothered.

Charlie sighed. Then decided that the best defence was offense. Or a distraction.

"Wait, were you worried about me?" he asked and his lips twitched in a smile. Rose's eyes narrowed, then she sighed as well.

"You're impossible, you know it."

Charlie wanted to say 'but you still love me'. He didn't though. One, it would have been a bold statement even between the two of them. No way in hell would he voice it in front of the whole family. So he just smirked.

"Dinner will be ready in a minute, Charlie. Why don't you sit down till then? You still look tired."

"I'm fine, Miss Beazley," Charlie protested but let himself be steered towards the kitchen table by Rose. It was closer to food in any case, and to the wonderfully smelling pie. His stomach growled again and Rose chuckled.

"I haven't eaten for ages," Charlie said in his defence.

"Aw. Here, have a little piece. I can't listen to that growling any longer," Jean said and served Charlie a small slice. "It's from Miss Jackson actually. She stopped by an hour ago. She heard what happened and wanted to give you something so you feel better. Her secret recipe." Jean said with a wink.

Charlie beamed at her and reached for the fork. He moved a bit faster than he should have and hissed at the ensuing pain. Both Rose and Jean started fussing over him and Charlie felt his face turn red. He wasn't used to so much attention and he really wished both women would just stop, before Lawson or Blake noticed.

Too late though.

Lawson was watching him with a familiar frown on his face and Charlie wondered what was his problem.

"When I tried to take a slice of that pie an _hour _ago, you almost drove a fork through my hand," Lawson said, glaring at Jean accusingly.

Charlie paused his fork with the pie midway to his mouth, looking at Jean with surprise.

Jean rolled her eyes.

"The pie is for Charlie, he needs to build up his strength. And you had dessert at lunch," she added with a tone that clearly said that Lawson should maybe stay with one dessert per day.

Rose pretended to clear her throat, but Charlie knew she was chuckling. He couldn't help it. He looked Lawson straight in the eyes and took a large bite of the pecan pie. It was heaven.

Lawson rolled his eyes and turned to Blake. His voice was low but Charlie could still discern his words.

"Yesterday he was ready to tackle an armed couple of killers with nothing but his bleeding hands. Now he is too weak and needs a double serving of pie. My ass. Can't they see he's just playing them?"

"Oh, don't be such a prat, Matthew. Let him have some fun. God knows you will have him writing reports for the next month straight."

Charlie froze mid bite. He saw the slow smile stretching on Lawson's face. Because hell yeah. It was Charlie's luck that the bullet caught his right arm, leaving the left - the writing arm - perfectly fine.

Lawson reached out for the glass of whiskey that was on the table and raised it towards Charlie before taking a satisfied sip.

All Charlie could do was sigh when he realized it was all well and good to piss off Lawson at home, but he would have to pay the consequences at work. Oh well. He was off duty for the next week. It was plenty of time to play nice with the boss. And if not, Charlie could deal with it. Right now though, there was a pecan pie to enjoy and a red headed girl by his side in a protective mood. Life wasn't so bad after all.

**THE END**

_**A/N:** I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed, your words always mean a lot to me. Now a quick ado to the story... I know the scene with Dr. Owens might seem a bit strange and random, but... I have plans for the man *evil grin*. So bear with me and lets see in one of the furute stories what happens :) _

_Another story is in the works, so stay tuned. Till then, have a wonderful time y'all 3_


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